


Without Question, I Love You

by SteeleStingray



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Canon Typical Abuse, Damen is helplessly bisexual, Epic quest, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Magic, Mental Abuse, Mutual Pining, Pining, Road to El Dorado AU, Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, lost kingdom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-11-27 03:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 62,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18189182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteeleStingray/pseuds/SteeleStingray
Summary: Damianos, the king of the island chain of Akielos, and his dearest companion Nikandros are facing a crisis that may send hundreds of thousands of his subjects to ruin. However, a raid on a pirate ship yields a strange map that seems to lead to a kingdom long since cut off from the rest of the world.Willing to gamble everything for the safety of Akielos, they set off to the mysterious--and possibly magical--kingdom to find someone who can help.(Loosely based on the film 'The Road to El Dorado')





	1. The Map

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends!  
> I feel like it's been forever since I've updated but it's only been 2 weeks since I posted the end of 'An Emerald-Coloured Nightmare'. I guess I just miss this so much haha!  
> In any case, on to the new fic!  
> I have always loved the film 'The Road to El Dorado' and I so badly wanted to make it into an AU for Capri and after watching it again recently, my obsession has been rekindled. It's a great movie, if you haven't seen it! The music is AMAZING; I normally hate naming fic titles after song lyrics, but this one was too good to pass up from the soundtrack song 'Without Question'.  
> Also the film is EVEN BETTER when you realize that Miguel/Tulio/Chel were 100% a polygamous group who loved each other and deserved to bang each other atop a massive pile of gold haha! So...natural response?  
> Nikandros/Damen/Laurent fic!  
> I realize it's not everyone's cup of tea, so no stress if you'd prefer not to read; I get it.  
> And I made some slight changes to canon in this story. First, all the nations are islands and second, Damianos won his kingship through shows of strength, skill, and intelligence. That's about it for now but I'll add more if I remember any!  
> Quick aside, thank you to nikanndros (aka. Kittendiamore) for reading through my draft and leaving insightful comments! Also thanks to Betty and Justanotherday for watching the film and giving me their opinions on it! I hope everyone enjoys!

**Without Question, I Love You**

**1\. The Map**

Damianos breathed in the sea salt air, the tang of it a little sharper this afternoon, and he rolled his weight expertly with the gentle rocking of the ship. No matter that the sturdy wooden boards were slick and red, Damen had been walking on a ship before he even knew how to speak the word ‘ship’.

His men were cheering, raising their weapons with crimson cloaks whipping in the wind, from where they were perched on the shrouds and railings and the quarterdeck. It had been a swift, brutal battle on deck but Damianos had utter faith in his crew.

He saw Nikandros through the softening chaos and pushed through the crowd to his most beloved friend. Nikandros, with red dripping from the tips of his black braids, smiled wide and white at Damianos’ approach. Damianos easily took Nikandros’ head in his hands and tilted it gently from side to side. No cuts, no scrapes, the blood on his braids was not his own.

Damianos breathed a sigh of relief and bumped his forehead against Nikandros’.

 _Good_.

He did not want to have to flog the remaining pirate crew--it was messy work and it made future surrenders more difficult--but he would have if anyone had hurt Nik.

“Damianos. You yet live.” Nikandros was being cheeky and Damianos flicked the curve of his dark cheek before releasing his face.

“As if such a minor company could cause me grief.”

“You’ll be seeing the captain then?” Nikandros cleaned his blade with the tattered end of his red cloak. “You may want to wipe off your sword. Unless you want to drip blood on his floors.” Damianos brightened at the idea and Nikandros laughed. “Wicked! Fine you torturous man. Go to negotiate and I’ll watch these brigands.”

He was speaking of the survivors of their skirmish, two dozen pirates from Patras who were kneeling on the main deck in between the masts. Their weapons--although cast aside--were well-kept and they were not as emaciated and edgy as some of the men on the ships they had raided before. They seemed peaceful enough and any one of them would be no match for Nik in any case.

Damianos slid his sword through his belt, letting the tip of the blade drip crimson onto the deck.

He went to the doors under the quarterdecks, their ornate carvings clearly marking it as the captain’s quarters. Damianos rapped his knuckles on the wood; although he was the King of Akielos and the ship was technically under his command and he could do as he liked, pirates and seamen appreciated these small acts of respect.

Damianos knew he would have more raids in the future and it would be helpful to have that rapport.

“Come in, Exalted One.”

The captain’s room was surprisingly cozy and well decorated in comparison to many of the pirates he had encountered before. He took a moment to appreciate the details before ducking beneath the threshold. It was hard to remain dignified when he was almost bent double and he was glad that he had not asked Nikandros to come in with him. Nik would have laughed uncontrollably.

The captain was a grizzled older man, worn from the sea and salt but still hale, standing contemplatively behind a table covered in paper, inkpots, and curios holding down the rolling corners of maps. He had the features and styling of a man from the Isle of Patras, with blurry black tattoos covering most of his forearms and a large golden signet ring on his hand.

“Captain.” Damianos greeted him. “Might I sit?”

“My ship is yours. You may do as you please.” Suspicions confirmed, his accented Akielon had the rolling of vowels so unique to Patran ports.

“I only ask because I am not built for low ceilings.” Damianos sat easily in the chair, perfectly at ease. Even if the man drew blades, he would be no match. “You know why I am here. I will not patronize you.”

“You’ll be wanting our valuables back, I expect.” The captain bristled, already referring to the goods he and his crew had stolen on their coastal raids as his own. Damianos was well aware of this particular brand of bravado and did not rise to the bait.

In the past, when he was young and fiery and not even Nikandros’ gentle words could cool him, Damianos would have tried to strike fear into the man and taken the ashes of his burnt ship as recompense.

But he was a man of twenty five now and he had more pressing matters to worry about.

“Not all of it, no. There are some you stole from who can afford to part with a golden trinket or two but many more who cannot.” The captain raised his eyebrows as if perhaps he considered the people affected would be beneath Damianos’ attention. “I might not have been so generous had you slaughtered the citizens or taken the young, as many other pirates do.” Those men he slaughtered personally for what atrocities they had committed. “You have given your pound of flesh in the loss of your crew and the damage to your ship.”

The captain darkened at the thought of that. His ship was his pride and his livelihood lay in his crew. “That is your price for me to forget?”

“Forget?” Damianos was unused to having his words misunderstood. “By the gods, no. I want you to _remember_. Remember that I spared your life and the lives of your men, left you your ship and didn’t let it sink below these waves, left you funds and food so you needn’t become desperate and starve. Remember how benevolent I am because,” he stood slowly and this time he allowed his height to be menacing as he spoke in Patran, “if you continue to attack my people, there will come a time when I see you again. And I will not be so kind. So remember me.”

The captain silently weighed his options as he looked at the foe he was up against. When he breathed out, Damianos sensed his defeat. “So be it then. Take back what you see fit and leave me my dignity.”

“Thank you.” Damianos said.

His men would be doing as instructed and searching the hold for contraband. In the meantime, he would have someone else come in to search the captain’s quarters for any valuables he had squirrelled away for himself.

When he emerged back into daylight, it was clear that his crew had been giving a similar speech to the captured pirate crew. Nikandros’ form was easily spotted from across the deck and Damianos hurried over to him.

“The captain has acquiesced to us taking back the goods stolen from the coastal town in Aegina. Can you have the men disperse and bring up anything they find?” Nikandros was his quartermaster in these matters and gave these sorts of informal commands that might be seen as beneath Damianos to give.

“Of course.” Nikandros smiled up at him, clearly pleased that there would be no further bloodshed. “And after I have finished giving orders do you care to see me up to my elbows in gold as well?” Nikandros’ skin was several shades darker than Damianos’, a color well-suited for the shimmer of gold, if only his _agapetós_ decried a sailor wearing gold casually as vulgar.

“Come for me. I’ll be in my quarters. And let me know if our men find anything interesting.”

“As you command, Damianos.”

Damianos’ work was, in essence, finished and he walked back over to his own ship, ignoring the bevy of sharks beneath him that had come for the blood of the dead pirates. His ship was larger than that of the pirates’, and much better maintained.

His quarters had been specially crafted to accommodate his height and, unlike in most ships, he did not have to nearly bend double any time he went to his quarters or belowdecks.

He tossed his cloak and sword onto one of the chairs at the side of his desk and waited for his men to bring in the stolen goods.

It was Pallas, that rising star in the naval school, that Damianos had recruited for his observant eye and unparalleled swordplay, who brought the bulging leather bags of treasure into his quarters. The heaviness of gold and silver seemed to be of no consequence to Pallas, his dark forearms flexing attractively as he placed the loot to the side.

“We took at random, Exalted One.” He explained, flushing a bit red in the cheeks. “And left one-tenth, at Master Nikandros’ command. Mostly we looked for things that looked to be...sentimental.”

“Thank you.” Damianos smiled at him and felt a suffusion of warmth as Pallas blushed even darker. He had a sweet temperament and a sweeter face. “You have done well and may return to your post.”

Damianos wondered what it would be like to kiss Pallas before he reminded himself that there was business to attend to.

His men had a good eye.

Amongst the loose coins and rings and other bits of jewelry, Damianos did notice some things that were clearly personal items. A small whalebone carving of a woman, a silver looking glass with an amethyst set in the back, a child’s dress with seed pearl sewn along the hems.

He did not linger too long on any of the objects; it was altogether too personal. But only one item gave him pause.

There was a leather pack, scuffed with age and smelling of sea salt, that had clearly belonged to the pirates and had likely been taken by mistake. In the front pouch were loose, uncut diamonds and black silt that spilled between Damianos’ fingers. In the main pouch were gold coins unlike any Damen had ever seen before, piled wrist deep, and carved wooden snakes with emerald eyes and ruby fangs.

He pocketed one, liking the crafty look of the little creatures, and was about to put the bag aside when something caught his eye.

Damianos saw a small flash of silvery blue from deep inside the pack and, when he dug his hand back in, he encountered the surprising texture of dry paper. When he withdrew the item from the pack, he was surprised to find a scrolled up piece of yellowed old parchment wrapped with thin silver chains and sealed with ice blue wax. He looked carefully at the star-shape imprinted into the wax before deciding to break the seal.

When he peeled the dried blue wax away from the paper, he almost wished he had waited so that someone else could witness what he saw.

The moment he pulled the dried wax off of the paper, the slim silver chains around the parchment disappeared, disintegrated really, into shining blue sparks that rippled up into the air. He almost dropped the scroll to the floor in his surprise but the sparks did not catch fire.

Like fireflies, they blinked out of existence and the paper fell loose in his lap.

He shook his head, long curls gently hitting his cheeks as he thought the sparks could be due to exhaustion. Three weeks at sea hunting down pirates and other assorted miscreants could cause bone-weariness in a man.

It took him a moment to compose himself and shake off what he had seen. His fingers remained steady as he unfurled the page and took in the image carefully inked onto the surface.

It was a map, and a very old one at that.

Damianos had seen a great many maps in his life but this one gave him pause. He set it on the long table in his quarters and pored over it more intently.

It was an island he had never seen before and he prided himself on knowing even the smallest rocky outcropping in the seas surrounding Akielos. Moreover, the script the map was written in was unlike any he had ever seen before. It curved and looped like the edges of seashells and he tried to imagine what the words might sound like in his mouth.

And then there was the terrain surrounding the island.

From a cursory glance he saw sharp rocky outcroppings, the delicate spirals of whirlpools, and the carefully drawn husks of half-sunken ships. Damianos was so busy tracing the treacherous route a ship would need to take to reach safe shores that he did not notice as Nikandros knocked on the door to his quarters and entered.

“Gods, Damianos, you have not yet cleaned your blade. It will rust.” Damianos smiled at Nikandros’ immediate nagging. He could hear Nikandros cleaning the sword behind him and longed to teasingly tug on his braids.

“Nik, what would I do without you?”

“Most likely perish. What are you looking at?” Nikandros asked, bumping against Damianos’ shoulder. “Damen, you stole a map?”

Damianos nudged Nik’s fingers with his own, in an indulgent mood since Nik had used their private nickname from childhood. “I did not _steal_ it. It was in a pack with some stolen coins and apparently it was not all that important because that Patran did not attempt to stop us from taking it.”

“Why keep this map then?” The tips of Nikandros’ braids trailed across the surface of the parchment. “You do not have enough of them in here? Or in your library? Or in the library of Ios?”

“Are you here to look at the map? Or are you just here to accuse me of being a thief?” Damianos laughed. “I just...I am intrigued by it. I have never seen a map drawn quite like this before.” It was startling to find a part of the sea he did not recognize, the map showing detailed directions through the particularly perilous looking route.

Looking at the map again with Nikandros present, Damianos saw that there was Akielon on the map and wondered how it had escaped his notice before...at first glance he was sure it had all been in foreign script. He looked carefully at the parts of the map that had been translated into Akielon and found some handwritten notes had been scrawled on the back.

His personal favorite for its’ ominous quality was ‘Do not attempt passage in winter. Death is almost assured’.

“Comforting.” Nikandros said deadpan. “It was kind of the artists to add in the shipwrecks.”

“I’d like to get it back to the scholars in Ios and see what they have to say about it. This script is most intriguing…” The curves of the words were almost sensual and Damianos would have loved to trace some of curls of ink if he wasn’t worried about smudging the details.

“A matter that can wait until we return to port.” Damianos allowed himself to lean back into Nikandros’ body, relaxing for the first time in days. “Let us breathe for a moment.”

It was a rare moment indeed that Nikandros had to be the one telling Damianos to relax. Usually it was the other way around. Without arguing, Damianos let Nikandros pull him to his feet and guide him out of the captain’s quarters to the bow of the ship. Of course Nikandros knew it was the place Damianos went to collect his thoughts.

It was a calm but exhilarating spot, causing that delighted swoop in Damianos’ belly even after years of being aboard a ship.

The sea--turquoise in the sun, cobalt in the shadows, always glittering like the facets of a gem--raced past as the ship cut through the waves. There were no dolphins today, just the endless expanse of ocean and sky. The salt spray misted his face and Damianos breathed in the fresh air. For a moment, he felt as if he was flying.

Nikandros’ arm rested lightly against his and Damianos found true peace for a moment.

But then his heart began to hurt over the beauty of the sea and how much he loved it. And how it was going to destroy something precious to him very soon.

 

The ports of Ios were a beautiful cacophony of sailors and merchants and fisherman and gulls, the creaking of ships and the lapping of waves and whipping of sails. Over the smell of salt was the scent of food, freshly roasting on open grills and the white stucco houses clinging to the land were draped in colorful striped fabrics. Damianos felt a swell of pride and love in his chest, different from how he felt in the open ocean.

This was a feeling of warmth and comfort, of homecoming.

As his people greeted him with smiles and cheers, he tried not let the sight of the dock pilings discourage him. Before he had left to track down those pirates, he had ordered some of the wood painted with rings of white, one ring for every inch. When his ship had left port, there had been a good five inches of dry wood between the water and the bottommost ring.

Now it looked more like four and a half inches.

Damianos made a note to himself, as he gingerly stepped on the sturdy wood of the dock, to have a city planner come down and make the proper measurements for posterity. However, as he looked back to Nikandros and saw his grim expression, he knew the truth in his heart even without the numbers in front of him.

Ios, the capital of the Akielon island chain and home to several hundred thousand people, was sinking into the sea.

 

It took Damianos and Nikandros a few days after arriving back in Ios to get to the library in the city. They had to make sure the stolen goods were properly redistributed to the affected townships as well as to make sure that their ship was properly restocked for their next voyage.

The planner had also come with his measurements, but Damianos did not quite have the mental fortitude to look at it just yet.  

Instead, he found Nikandros poring over piracy reports sent to the Akielon navy from many of the islands in the Akielon chain. He did not even jolt as Damianos touched his bare shoulder.

Damianos inhaled sharply as someone approached them.

Her body was smooth and firm as a river stone beneath a pale violet chiton. Most of her honey-colored hair was piled and pinned atop her head but some wayward curls spiraled out around her elegant, long neck. The lovely gray-green of her eyes was magnified with the pair of spectacles perched on her nose. She was beautiful and Damianos felt that familiar tugging behind his navel.

Nikandros glanced at him, knowing.

“Exalted One.” She greeted him. “I am Lykaios. It is an honor to help you in...whatever it is you require of me.” Nikandros cleared his throat which Damianos knew covered laughter.

“I had expected a wizened old man fully prepared to lecture me for hours.” Damianos smiled down at her. “I am pleased to find my expectations cruelly dashed.”

Lykaios began to walk and Damianos followed her without question. “You flatter. My teacher, the master, is out this day but I am the one most qualified to help you with what you need. I am well versed in maps of all types and I believe that women are uniquely qualified to study cartography.” Damianos was about to ask her to elaborate, but she saved him the effort. “In the past, only men made maps and I am somewhat of an expert in pointing out the mistakes that men make.”

Damianos laughed at her wit. “I defer to your expert opinion.”

He heard Nik whisper to tease him, “If only you would defer more often.” Before speaking louder for Lykaios’ benefit, “I only hope we have something worth your time.”

“You need not worry about that.” Lykaios said sweetly. “The pleasure of your company is more than enough to make bosoms rise.” Damianos was so enamored he almost missed Nikandros clearing his throat again.

She led them to a slightly cluttered area he assumed was Lykaios’ area of study. Damianos noticed that Lykaios had perfect, oval-shaped fingernails. Nikandros helped her clear papers and books from the massive table in the center of the room and--once a large enough spot was available--Damianos delicately unrolled the map, setting books on the corners to keep it from rolling up.

Lykaios looked at the map, sucking in breath as she surveyed the blue and silver ink that greeted her on the old parchment. He stayed quiet, giving her time to truly take in the map.

“Astonishing.” She had no qualms tracing her fingertips over the face of the map. She whispered to herself, her voice a rapid gasp of excitement. If the map was not of any use to Damianos, he thought about gifting it to her. “Look at the coastline...at the _script_! Where on earth did you find such a treasure?”

“It’s a...bit of a long story.” Damianos admitted.

“I would imagine. Would one of you mind fetching a book from the shelf? It should be dark blue, silver star on the cover.” Damianos knew if the cartography master was here to see Lykaios order about Damianos and Nikandros they would clutch their hearts in shock and horror. But he rather liked when these passionate, scholarly types completely lost themselves in their excitement and lost all sense of social decorum.

His delight must have shown too readily because he heard Nikandros sigh. “I’ll only be a moment, my lady.”

Damianos playfully tugged one of Nikandros’ braids as he returned with the tome and Nikandros swatted his hand away in false annoyance. Lykaios did not notice the exchange, instead flipping through the pages of her book.

“It _is_ !” Lykaios errantly cleared the curls from her face as she glanced from the map to the book and then back again. “You can clearly see the inlet for the port and the mountain range on the south side. And the starburst sigil matches that of the royal seal. This is the discovery of a _lifetime_...it’s...it’s…”

Aside from his delight that the map actually was worth the time he had put into it, he was also pleased to see that Lykaios cheeks and chest were flushed with excitement.

“Are you able to tell us what it is we’ve found?” Damianos asked.  

“‘Tis a map leading to Vere, Exalted One.” The lovely Lykaios said, fixing her spectacles with the elegant tips of her fingers. The foreign word rolled off her tongue as sweet as the seductive curve of a wave.

“What is Vere?” Damianos was about to ask her to return to the palace with him for a...personal lecture on the finer points of the map. But she must have been fully prepared for his ignorance on the subject because she was well-prepared with an answer and smile full of promise.

“Surely you have heard of it in stories, Exalted One. The kingdom of Vere is the island country to the far north that lies hidden behind a magical shield. Many believe it does not even exist. But...”

She touched the map with reverent hands and Damianos felt his heart begin to race.

“Lykaios,” he said, “would you do me the honor of returning with me to explain this more in-depth?” She removed her glasses with a smile and Damianos whispered the word again, feeling the exotic sweetness of it on his tongue. “ _Vere_.”

 


	2. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to call it now: this fic is going to be more that 15 chapters long. I'm a few chapters in now and I can just FEEL it!  
> Kind of like how you all are going to feel so annoyed at Damen for not noticing that Nikandros has been pining for him since they were 12!  
> I'm annoyed and I've been writing this fic haha!  
> In any case I promise we'll be meeting Laurent soon and the 3 of them can go on a proper, loving adventure ;) Thank you everyone for the love! I've been having some melancholy days recently but being involved with writing and this fandom are some of the things that are sure to bring me joy! So I hope you guys enjoy this latest chapter! <3

**2\. The Plan**

Night fell across the nation of Akielos, an indigo blanket of soft warmth and orange-scented breezes.

True to any bustling capital, the fires remained lit in Ios long past sunset but up on the peak of the island, the wealthiest area away from the crowds and the crush of buildings and the smells of a city, the lights that were lit remained soft and intimate. 

The villa of the Exalted One was no different.

It was the finest in quality, though not excessively large, with an excellent view of the city and the sea and a curtain of fragrant, violet wisteria hanging from the marble balustrades. It was inside where Damianos found his peace.

He moved slowly amidst the silk sheets and kissed Lykaios’ smooth, sun-kissed buttocks feeling a small rush of fondness as she sighed contentedly in her sleep. She was so deep in slumber from allowing him to explore her lush body thoroughly that she did not stir as Damianos got out of bed. He rolled his shoulders as he walked, shaking out the new lightness in his hips.

The first order of business were two glasses of chilled wine and then he padded out to the balcony that overlooked all of Ios and the vast ocean below. 

The wine glasses were placed on the thick marble railing and Damianos’ cooled hands went to the beautiful dark slopes of Nikandros’ bare shoulders. As he rubbed his thumbs into the tense muscles, he felt bumps rise on Nik’s warm skin.

“Feel better?” Nikandros asked, fingers inching towards the wine.

“Much.” Though lovemaking set him at ease, his appetite had only slightly been sated. “Aren’t you cold?”

Nikandros snorted. “How can I be? With such a warm night and you pressed up behind me?” Damianos contemplated sinking his teeth lightly into Nik’s nape as payback for being so saucy but he settled for resting his forehead against Nik’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, Damen?” Damianos felt a hand running over his long curls. “Is something concerning you?”

“You know what it is.”

They had looked at the report from the city planner and found that Ios had sunken almost a half an inch in four weeks. In a year’s time, the port would be almost halfway under the ocean; in two year’s time…Damianos didn’t like to think about it.

The planner said that he and his apprentices were looking at all possible options to stop and reverse the effects of the sinking but Damianos was now wondering what might happen if no solution was found. For the time being he was keeping the issue quiet so as not to incite a panic. 

He didn’t even want to mention the new findings to Nik, who worried twice the amount that other people did.

“I am thinking about Vere.”

Vere, as Lykaios had explained prior to when she had dropped her chiton, was a kingdom made up of five islands that was supposedly to the northwest of Akielos. There were rumors that the Veretians were magic users, capable of illusions and mind-reading--and at that point Damianos had remembered the chain that had fallen to blue sparks. However, the entire kingdom had disappeared several generations ago behind what many believed was a magical barrier. 

When Damianos wondered aloud why they would hide themselves away, Lykaios explained that there were many theories. 

The Veretians had always been a private group, generally only trading with the people of Kempt and Vask, but also the past had been rife with wars and pirates stealing the Veretians as slaves for their beauty and their magic.

Nikandros turned so he was facing Damianos. His look of suspicion was endearing. “Why are you thinking of Vere, Damen?”

“They can use magic, Nik.”

“You saw the map, Damianos. You know how dangerous it would be to cross that passage. If it even exists.” 

“You don’t like danger?” Damianos grinned, feeling a little guilty for making jokes when his capital was sinking into the sea and the only worthwhile solution that had been presented to him since his return was a magical kingdom that had vanished generations before. It almost sounded like the recounting of a dream. 

“It is not danger that strikes fear in me.” Nikandros said, dropping his gaze. Damianos was too tall to duck down and see the emotion, so he had to settle for tilting Nik’s chin up. His gaze was intense. “My fear is that Akielos will lose its’ king to a dream. Akielos needs you now more than ever.”

“Nik, Ios is sinking.” Damianos whispered urgently, just in case Lykaios could hear. “It is sinking and thus far we have no way of stopping it. It may take years but a strong earthquake could send the whole city sliding to sea in a single hour. What am I to do? Hundreds of thousands of people look to me to keep them safe. Even if we found a new location, it would take years to rebuild Ios.”

“Damen…” He could tell Nik was torn. One the one hand he was the most loyal man Damianos had ever met and would give all of himself for the safety and prosperity of Akielos. But he had also been Damianos’ closest friend since childhood and was clearly debating whether all the lives in Ios were worth the potential loss of his friend.

Damianos kissed both of Nik’s eyelids. “We can discuss it later. Put yourself at ease for the night.”

Nikandros was clearly not sated but for the moment he turned back to the sea and to his wine. For the moment, he could simply bask in the beauty of their city. But as Damianos continued to knead Nikandros’ shoulder with his free hand, he still felt the bumps on his friend’s skin. 

“You  _ are _ cold.”

“I’m not.” Nikandros said and Damianos knew then that it was anxiety and fear. 

Damianos downed the rest of his wine and placed the empty glass back on the railing of the balcony so that he could drape his arm across Nikandros’ collar. 

 

The difficult conversation was had only a few days later, when the city planners and engineers paid him a visit in his villa. Unlike some rulers of Akielos in the past, Damianos preferred to keep a small, intimate residence that was easily conducive for visitors. This visit, however, was one that he would have liked to avoid altogether. 

Nikandros had respectfully excused himself from the room for wine but Damianos knew he had his ways of knowing what was said in his absence. 

They did not spare him. 

The island Ios was on had always suffered erosion from the ocean and the salt wind but only recently had they discovered how dire the situation was. Although they assured Damianos that they would put their finest engineers to the task but the message was clear: nothing short of a miracle would prevent the island from sinking.

Damianos rubbed at his temples as soon as the experts left the room and he felt Nikandros pacing around him, obviously concerned.

“What are we to do, Nik?” He said, almost laughing though it seemed to border on hysteria. 

Damianos felt Nik’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing it, and he touched the rough skin there.

“They will find something, I am sure of it.”

“I’m not talking about the city planners or the engineers. What are  _ we _ to do, Nik?”

Quite by accident, Damianos’ pinkie finger brushed the edge of the map and Nik’s grip tightened ever so slightly. “You cannot still be considering it. Damen, you  _ cannot _ .” His dark eyes were shining with annoyance and fear. It was a look he saw often when he was proposing some wild plan to Nik.

“I am the king.” Damianos insisted. “I cannot be known for doing nothing as my city sinks into the sea. I must do  _ something _ . Even if it means sailing to a city that may not exist.” He reached his hand up to brush Nik’s cheek, a gesture that in the past had softened Nik to some of his wilder plots. “If time is of the essence I...I can think of nothing else to try.”

Nikandros could clearly see that Damianos would not soon be swayed unless Nik found an alternative. He smiled but it was rife with sorrow. “If anyone could, you would be the one to hold the city up with your bare hands.”

“Nik…”

Nik turned his gaze to the map and there was clear dislike in his features. “Your mind is made up then?”

“You know I have always been intrigued by the mysteries of the ocean. A lost island is like something out of my boyhood fantasies.”

“I recall your fantasies being of the more...carnal variety.” Nikandros replied tartly and Damianos laughed at his annoyance. “Go on then. Tell me what you’re thinking of. You’ve clearly done some planning.”

Damianos unrolled the map so that it covered all the clear space on his table. Just as Nikandros had suspected, Damianos had done his own research in the restricted archives of the Ios library. What he had learned was that the Veretians were supposedly capable of unimaginable feats and he was almost sure the treacherous path was also due to their magics.

“I’ve determined that the entrance to this route is only a little further north than than the isle of Delpha. You know the fog of Delpha?” All sailors knew the fog. The thick pearly gray fog that lay half a day’s sailing from the northernmost tip of Delpha was notorious for turning ships around and spitting them back out where they had started. “I would imagine the entrance is hidden in the fog.”

“So these swirls are not waves or clouds; it’s the fog...this entrance is going to be a bitch to find.” Nikandros said contemplatively. “It seems these people want to be left alone.” 

“We cannot rely on the sun or the stars. We will have to use one of those Patran compasses,” his hands measured the distance between the fog and the first of the rocky outcroppings, “and plan our journey well in advance.”

It was simple and comforting slipping into sailing plans with Nikandros. 

Damianos tied his wavy hair up into a bun but Nik let his braids fall free and coil on the maps like tame snakes. Damianos often had to push them to the side or toss them over Nik’s shoulder. 

The plans took a distinct quality of likelihood and it wasn’t until Damianos began to talk of the ship needed for their trip that Nikandros must have realized he was being sucked in. 

“It should be fast. And enough for one man to use.” 

Nikandros paused and looked up as him, his shoulders tensing. “You truly are going to do this?” 

“Save you, I trust no one else to see this mission to completion.” He rubbed the tip of one of  Nik’s braids. “I’ll not incite panic in the city.”

“Enough for one man...and you mean to go alone?”

His tone this time was accusatory--or as accusatory as Nik could sound--and Damianos was unsurprised to see hurt had joined the fear in Nikandros’ eyes. It struck him squarely in the chest.

Damianos chose his words carefully to avoid further hurt.

“I know you are against it.” He began. “You...if you do not wish to, I will not make you go. My last wish, save the fate of Ios, is to see you hurt from my plans. I am fine to shoulder this burden alone.” It was his duty as the chosen king.

Nikandros sighed, the tension leaving him and Damianos was sure he was about to be called a fool.  

“You are a fool,”  _ there it was _ , “to think that I would see you off alone.”

Damianos felt a rush of extreme fondness for Nik, his dearest, most beloved friend, and he grinned wide over having eventually gotten his way. Although the plan was foolhardy at best and and outright deadly at worst, the feeling of adventure was sweeter than that of victory or wine.

“We’re going to Vere.” He said.

“To Vere.” Nik agreed. 

 

Damianos looked to the ship he had commissioned for the journey. It was small and light, built for speed, a two-man crew, and a short voyage. He was gambling on the idea that he would need to navigate quickly around the rocks and storms and maelstroms and praying to the gods that he and his skeleton crew of Nikandros would not suffer a direct hit. Surely a scrape against a rock would just about shatter the hull.

Still, Damianos was all about calculated risks. 

The most difficult task was explaining to his crew where he would be and where he might have ended up if the two of them did not return. Nikandros had wanted to keep the whole operation a secret to avoid panic, Damianos could tell, but he nodded in assent after Damianos pointed out that it would be cruel if they were to disappear without a trace or an explanation. Sometimes he wondered who was really the king in these instances. 

In any case, Damianos had called together the crew of his ship one evening to tell them of the mad plot he and Nik were undertaking. 

“There’s no way around it,” Damianos said, addressing them all in the study of his palace, “Ios is sinking, sliding right off the island and into the sea. I have been told that even a slight earthquake could destroy the whole capital.” He saw the looks of shock and dismay on his crew members faces but continued. “We have no solution for this calamity as of this moment, though our city planners are trying to find a way to stop or slow the sliding. Nikandros and I have found something that may help but...it is a perilous journey.” He squared his shoulders in a show of bravery and felt Nik tense up beside him. “A journey from which we might not return.” 

The shock and dismay turned to outright chaos as his crew forgot themselves and began to ask a volley of questions.

With a single raised hand, Damianos had them all silent and listening again. “I tell you this because you have been an honest and loyal crew since the day you have pledged yourself to my cause. And you deserve to know the truth. Makedon, the  _ kyros _ of the Isle of Sicyon will take command and protection of the kingdom in my absence.” 

That decision had come after hours of deliberation. 

Though Damianos’ crowning had come after a unanimous vote from the  _ kyros  _ of every island in the Akielon chain, as the king he could appoint a  _ kyros _ without a vote to rule Akielos in his absence. 

Makedon of Sicyon, one of the most intelligent and determined of the  _ kyroi _ , had his own private fleet of sturdy ships and some of the finest soldiers and sailors. At least Akielos would be safe from pirates in his absence and Makedon could be trusted to keep a level head during an emergency. Like an entire city sliding into the harbor. 

Damianos had sent the summons: his royal seal and a brief note of explanation. 

He had no doubt that Makedon would assume his duty with honor. 

“We intend to be gone four months at most.” He admitted. After much planning with Nikandros as to how long the journey to Vere would take, Damianos had allowed himself three months to traverse the main island of Vere and beg whoever looked the most magical to come back with him and do something to stop the destruction of his city. “Any longer and...I would have you send our souls to the horizon.”

And then the trials would be held again, a new ruler chosen from the finest men and women in the kingdom. They would inherit the problems Damianos had failed to solve.

That thought alone gave him the courage to trace the path on the map.

The looks of concern faded to solemnity. These seafaring men knew that this was no fool's errand if Damianos was asking them to organize the distinct honor of a four-fold traditional Akielon funeral. For the death of their captain and king...it would put anyone to silence.

“But we intend to return victorious. As we always have.”

They cheered at his pronouncement but there was an edge of fear to it, a hard-eyed, desperate determination even as his crew wished him the strength and safety of the gods. Pallas lagged behind after all the others had gone. 

“Exalted One, I wish to join you on your voyage.” He said without pause. Damianos admired his boldness.

“Pallas you are yet young and full of potential.” Nikandros began. “Akielos needs men of your caliber to--.”

Damianos had to remember that Pallas was the son of a lord and resisted the urge to silence him as he interrupted Nikandros. “My captain, Nikandros, with all due respect, I wish to join you. I am young and strong and I swore to sail with you in clear skies and storms. Akielos needs me to serve her king.” Pallas looked up and his sweet face blazed with determination. Damianos liked him even more for it. “And if my king is to sail into the unknown, I humbly intend to go with him.”

Damianos could feel that Nikandros was touched but also irritated with Pallas’ refusal to see reason and it made him smile.

“I see the signs of a man with his mind made up.” He said. He knew the look well; he often saw it when he looked in the mirror. “And I will not refuse the help of an honest man. Take one week to go to your family home and then we’ll sail out at dawn.”

He almost felt guilty when Pallas’ expression lit up in delight. 

“I will do you honor, Exalted One.” He said, bowing his head before he all but ran from the ship. Perhaps he thought Damianos might rescind the invitation if he waited around. 

“Three of us then.” Damianos conceded to Nikandros, who remained tense and silent. 

He tried to remain optimistic in face of the fact that, if they were to fail in the worst way possible, it was he who had allowed this strong, handsome young man to join them at the bottom of the ocean. 

 


	3. The Maze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd we're in Vere!   
> Though I wanted to show off more of Damen's snark and Nik's deadpan pragmatism along the way haha! He is always there to remind Damen that, even though he is big, beefy, and beautiful, he is only human.   
> Also when I'm thinking of Vere this time, the landscape did not go to France. This time it's a mix: I imagine the main island is kind of like the USA's Pacific Northwest with it's huge mossy forests and drizzly fog. But the rough beach comes from Reynisfjara Beach in Iceland. It's a gorgeous black sand beach the tide there is one of the most violent I've ever seen before. I guess it kind of suits the Veretian nature haha!  
> In any case, I'm sure you'll all be happy to see Laurent again ;)  
> Enjoy!

**3\. The Maze**

Pallas, as a testament to his tenacity and loyalty was at the docks a week later before sunrise, with a leather pack strapped to his shoulder and a sturdy cloak draped over his arm. Damianos shot Nikandros a sympathetic glance as if to say it was difficult to deter a young man who was so set in his mind. 

They welcomed him aboard their tiny vessel and it was the  _ kyros _  Makedon who stood watch at the dock as the three of them sailed north.

Upon seeing the retreating sight of Ios, Pallas joined Nikandros and Damianos near the helm to watch as the sun rose over their beautiful city, perhaps for the last time. The white buildings were dyed in the soft rosy-orange glow of sunrise and Damianos almost longed to turn the ship around.

He felt Nikandros’ pinkie brush against his. “It will not be as lovely under the sea, Damianos.”

Damianos smiled at him.

It was true and he knew it. There was a reason they were sailing away. As the king, he had to give up this view--potentially forever--so that untold future generations could appreciate Ios at sunrise. He turned his attention back to the northern horizon.

It was three days of sailing before their ship reached the sheet of fog that lay heavy in the sea north of Delpha. 

It was eerie as the fog swallowed them and Damianos swore Nikandros did not blink until the entire ship was deep in the mist. “Relax Nik. We won’t lose ourselves out here.” Nikandros gave him an unsteady smile.

“Exalted One!” Pallas called from where he was perched up on the mast. “There are no sea monsters mentioned on that map of yours, right?” That seemed to break Nik out of his worry and he began to shake with silent laughter. 

“Rest easy Pallas!” Damianos called down. “Such creatures are figments of childhood stories.” He did not know about whether or not the Veretians could cause illusions of monsters and he shuddered a little at the thought of enormous squids or shoals of sharks that ate away a ship piece by piece. He whispered to Nikandros, “Keep a steady eye on that compass, yeah?”

Clearly the Veretians and whatever witchcraft they were employing did not anticipate Nikandros’ dedication.

They were a few hours into sailing when Nikandros called Damianos over in concern. While Pallas was manning the sails and Damianos was at the helm, Nikandros had taken up the unenviable position of navigator, though his determined and thorough nature was well-suited for it. He was looking between the map and the compass with narrowed eyes and jolted when Damianos pressed a hand to the small of his back.

“The compass is wrong.” He said. “We were sailing northwest and now the compass is showing that we are sailing due east.” He looked up at Damianos and his dear face was marked with confusion and fear. “I swear the needle just... _ moved _ . As soon as I blinked...I’m...it must be broken!”

“Ease yourself Nik.” Damianos assured him, moving his hand so he could rub the spot where Nik’s neck met his skull. “Surely there’s some explanation for this.” He looked at the needle of the compass trembling from the rocking of the ship and did not want to mention that he had commissioned the compass new from the finest Patran craftsman in all of Akielos.

“I was watching it, I swear on the gods.”

“I believe you.” Neither of them spoke of magic but it hung heavy in the air. No wonder ships were oft-turned about in the fog. “Keep watch on it will you?”

Nik nodded and Damianos rubbed his thumb over a half-moon scar on Nik’s shoulder, hoping to soothe him. 

He was also unnerved but as the leader of the expedition, he had to make a decision. As he returned to the helm he had to choose between staying on course at Nikandros’ belief or trusting the compass and turning the ship about. 

It was really not much of a choice. 

When they reached the end of the fog it was well past midnight and Damianos was never happier to see the moon full in the sky. Nikandros was all but dead on his feet from keeping watch on the compass and the map. 

Damianos set Pallas at the helm and sat with Nikandros on the main deck hoping that they had not gotten turned around, hoping that they would not encounter Delpha in a matter of hours. As he felt Nik’s braids brush his shoulder, Damianos saw the bow was pointing directly at the north star.

Perhaps the worst was behind them… 

 

The worst was indeed not behind them, Damianos thought to himself as he tried to catch his breath without inhaling water. 

They had not seen the island of Delpha, but they had run into a massive storm and a seemingly endless stretch of frothing whirlpools that would have swallowed their ship if Damianos was a weaker man. 

“Are you alright, Exalted One?” Pallas called from where he was wide-eyed and desperately trying to keep the sails under control.

“Still alive!” Damianos responded, clearing the wet curls from his eyes. “These Veretians do not know who they’re dealing with.” He laughed as he saw Nikandros pouring water from the compass though the parchment of the map remained startlingly dry. “I think we are on the right path!”

When the storm dissipated--with surprising swiftness--Damianos came up behind Nikandros to see what was next in store for them. 

Nikandros was ready for him, his dark fingers tracing the parchment. “It should please you to know that we  _ do _ seem to be on the right route. These soft strokes must represent the fog and the swirls are the storms…”

“I knew we were.” 

“How?” Nikandros looked at him in disbelief.

Damianos shrugged. “I ignored the compass and followed you.” Nikandros’ blush was sudden and bright as he looked back down at the map. “Naturally.”

“In any case, we should be encountering--ah.” He pointed ahead and shook his head. “I assume those are the sharp rocks we will have to sail through.”

Damianos saw them approaching on the horizon, jagged charcoal-gray peaks as sharp and numerous as shark’s teeth, in a long line as far as the eye could see in either direction. It had to be magic and Damianos knew that they would have to sail through them.

“These types of rocks destroy ships.” Nikandros said as they got ever closer.

“Thank you, Nik. You really know how to put me at ease.”

Despite his sarcasm, he did feel some trepidation as they sailed towards the widest opening. Pallas looked up at them in disbelief.

“This is the right way, Exalted One?”

“According to our fearless navigator it is.” Damianos responded, deadpan and relished the look of irritation Nik shot him.

Just as the fog and the storm tried to swallow them, the three men sailed into their next trial. It was even quieter than the fog, the only sound the creaking of the wood and the occasional drop of water on the deck. 

It was very narrow.

“Nikandros, you have a steadier hand.” Damianos called out to him, on edge as he looked at the sharp jagged faces of the rocks around them. A full sized galleon could not possibly fit between some of them and Damianos--never known for his ability to fit into small spaces--was not looking forward to sailing through such a maze. “Pallas, steady on with the sails!”

Nikandros swapped the compass and map for the helm and Damianos watched the needle as he murmured words of encouragement to Nik. He did not mention that a detailed map of the rock maze had appeared on the back of the parchment where it had been blank before. But Nikandros was so focused he did not pause to wonder why Damianos knew which path to take when they encountered a fork in the passageways.

They had to weigh anchor once or twice just so Nik could take a moment to breathe and collect himself. The breaks did not exactly calm Damianos.

There was no wind and no birds; in fact the only noise was the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of the ship. The fog had dissipated but the rocks were now so high that their peaks disappeared in the low hanging clouds. Damianos wondered if fish even dared to swim in these waters. 

It seemed the kind of place where ghost ships were made and Nik seemed to share his thoughts.

“One can only pray to the gods not to be lost in this place.” Nikandros murmured as he looked up. “If it lasts much longer we’ll have to weigh anchor. This passage would be treacherous at night.”

“We’ll find our way through.” Damianos assured him, laying a steadying hand on the back of Nik’s neck. “Thank the gods for whoever wrote the notes on this map.” Though one would wonder how the original owners found the correct path in the first place.

They did have to weigh anchor overnight.

Pallas and Nikandros offered to take watches but Damianos refused, wondering what it was they were meant to keep watch for. Pallas blanched a little at that and silently went to bed about an hour later but Damianos also felt unsettled. He and Nik laid out on the deck and hoped to see stars through the persistent fog.

“I had thought drowning at sea would be a fate I would not relish.” Nikandros’ whisper was even lower than usual, as if he was cautious to break the silence. “But there is something equally, if not more terrifying about the idea of forever wandering lost…” 

Damianos laughed in spite of himself and rolled over so he could squeeze Nikandros. “I love it when you get flirtatious. Tell me more of the terrible ways we might die.”

“Be  _ serious _ !” Nikandros tried to push Damianos away though he too was laughing.

“We’ll be fine.” Damianos assured him, keeping one arm outstretched so that Nik could rest his head there. “You just aren’t used to the silence and the calm.”

“Of course not. Not with you around.”

“I’ll keep you safe, Nik.”

 

There was a steady drizzle when they set sail the next morning and Damianos was thankful they had had the foresight to pack such sturdy cloaks. He was unused to the chill and the fact that the sun was hidden behind so many clouds.

But after nearly half a morning of maneuvering through the rocky labyrinth, Nikandros steered them to open sea and blushed profusely as Damianos and Pallas all but tackled him in delight. They might have gotten turned around overnight and were sailing straight back towards Delpha but at least they were facing open water and an endless gray sky.

Damianos took the helm back, having to catch himself slightly. “This sea is choppy.” He remarked, holding a hand out to steady Nikandros if needed.

The sea here was a pearly gray and seemed to lap against the hull with surprising force. It took most of their combined strength to keep their course steady; Damianos watched the horizon, praying to the gods that they were not sailing into oblivion.

It was Nik who saw it first. 

“Land!” He called out in excitement. “Gods, Damianos look! Hard to starboard!”

It took a moment, but Damianos did see the dark gray mass of an island and spun the wheel of the ship accordingly. His heart was in his throat. The mass grew as they approached until Damianos could see the details of the shoreline.

It was not good land to make port. The dark gray cliffs were tall and sheer and the flat ground above was filled with a lush, dark green forest likely nurtured by the constant mist. They would have to follow the coastline and find more appealing ports. 

“Keep eyes open for people.” Nikandros told Pallas in a hushed tone as if he was already expecting watchers amongst the trees. His concern was misplaced; they sailed for the rest of the morning and did not see another living human until Damianos found the beach.

They came upon it suddenly: a low area flanked by those same sharp rocks they had sailed through earlier in the day. But there was a long strip of dark land leading into the sea, perfect for grounding a ship, and more of the beautiful old trees that would surely make strong ships. Damianos errantly wondered why they had not be used as building materials before his mind was taken up with more pressing matters.

Aside from the forest and the rich-looking black soil, the shore did not look much more welcoming than what they had endured on the first leg of their journey. 

The waves were frothing to a fever pitch; out in the open the strong winds blew the half of the waves back as they broke. Those that were able to break crashed against the sea floor with more power than any waves he had seen before. It looked as though the sea had been filled with soapy foam, but it was just the violent churning of the water in a dull, constant roar.

It was going to be a rough grounding.

Pallas’ arms trembled from the cold spray and from keeping the sail lines tight while Damianos felt the wood of the wheel shudder under his hands. He sincerely hoped the ship would not shatter in the rough seas. 

They could not be hit broadside by a wave so the struggle would be to keep the ship steady. 

“Steady Nikandros!” He shouted. If he had to choose between keeping the ship intact or fishing Nikandros from the sea, they would have the added difficulty of finding another vessel to bring them home. 

The first dip of waves had the breath out of his lungs and he was sure the bow of the ship would slam directly into the ground. But mercifully it went back up, even if the crest of another wave spilled across the deck. Wet curls plastered against his face and he did not even bother to clear them, such was his focus. 

The moment he felt the hull crush against the shore, Damianos yelled for Nikandros and Pallas to help pull them ashore. They leapt easily from the deck and Damianos prayed to the gods for swift hands as another wave almost pushed the ship sideways. Another strong hit and the ship could likely crush Pallas and Nikandros underneath. 

But the push of the tide and the combined strength of Nikandros and Pallas had the boat grounded safely. Damianos paused for breath, draping himself over the helm, his damp curls dripping onto the already soaked deck. He was exhausted.

“Damen--Damianos!” He heard Nikandros call his name and nothing could call him to arms faster. He swiped his pack from the chest next to the helm and simply leapt over the side of the ship.

He landed easily on the the beach and felt immediate relief upon seeing that there was no immediate danger.  

The beach was unlike anything Damianos had seen.

It was not actual soil that lined the forest, but sand. Far from the soft white and yellow sands of Akielos and Patras or the rocky pebbled beaches of Vask, he had never before encountered sand that was black. 

Specks of it glittered under what little light filtered through the layer of clouds and Damianos had to dig his hands in it to make sure he was not hallucinating. It was just as fine and soft as white sand and it was pleasantly warm after the shocking cold of the sea.

“What in the name of the gods…?” Pallas seemed almost frightened to step on the sand after their ordeal. “Black sand?”

“It is not sinking sand, thank the gods.” Nikandros was much less inclined to fear as he watched the granules slide through his hands. “You don’t suppose this is magic sand?” He looked around, the sand all but forgotten. “Well we’ve made it here...wherever this place is.”

“It’s Vere.” Damianos said with complete and utter conviction. “I know it is Vere.”

Nikandros did not pause to ask Damianos how he was so sure of himself, but instead turned back to their vessel to retrieve the swords they had kept in oilcloth belowdecks. Damianos and Pallas wiped their hands clean on their chitons before accepting the blades. Who knew what was in the dense forests… 

With their boat securely beached, Damianos led the way up pitch dark sand, following the compass. The needle at the center shivered and Damianos wondered if magic affected the tiny device. 

They were halfway up the beach when Pallas paused; his body as tense and alert as one of those sleek hunting wolves the women trained for patrols on the islands of Vask. 

Damianos and Nikandros stopped immediately and listened.

Seasoned to this sort of thing, Damianos and Nikandros did not even breathe. Limbs tight, hands on their pommels, they listened over the crash of the seas and the rustle of leaves, the creaking of decades old branches. 

But then a trio of birds took to the skies and Damianos heard it.

Soft at first, but growing louder with each passing moment, was the clear sound of something crashing through thick undergrowth. 

“Should we draw blade?” Pallas asked, voice smooth and even despite the gleam of fearful intensity in his eyes. He was doing remarkably well for not having any idea of what was about to come hurtling out of those trees toward them. 

“Wait.” Damianos said, continuing to listen. 

There was a brief lull. Everything stopped moving including the wind.

Then from Damianos’ right came an explosion of greenery--leaves, twigs, vines--all spraying out onto the strip of black sand. And following it was a person, who leapt from the undergrowth with long legs that seemed to glow white, and skidded into the sand with a fine black spray. 

“Damianos!” He heard Nikandros yell to him but he was already running, covering the distance in three long strides. Nik was the careful one but Damianos still heard boots pounding sand behind him.

The person who had leapt from the trees had not even had the time to stagger to their feet before Damianos was next to them.

The shoulder he touched was lean with muscle and silken smooth, like the perfect white-pink face of an Akielon pearl. Gold hair whipped in the wind as the person--it was a young man, Damianos realized--twisted his entire body around to face the small Akielon party.

He looked as shocked as Damianos felt. 

The young man had the kind of face that would stick with Damianos for ages. 

His cheeks were flushed in two dark pink circles, his mouth open in surprise at seeing them there--Damianos could not help but notice that his upper lip was a little fuller that the lower lip--and his wide eyes were the same azure as the port in Ios. A face almost perfectly balanced and beautiful, so beautiful that the breath caught in Damianos’ throat. 

He heard Nikandros slow to a halt behind him and suck breath in through his teeth in the way Damianos knew he did when he was amazed beyond words.

The young man recovered himself first, his eyes darting between Damianos and Nikandros with the quick appraisal fighters often used to size up an opponent. When he spoke, it was in a language that was like the swooping of gulls, all long vowels and clipped consonants. It was like music.

When it was clear Damianos and Nikandros did not understand a word of what he was saying, the young man hissed in annoyance and flicked his index and middle fingers up in front of his lips.

Damianos nearly stepped back as he saw what looked like a shimmer of violet  _ helene _ \--those strange dancing lights he often saw blazing in the sky over the middle of the ocean--flash in front of the young man’s lips. 

“ _ Fuck me. _ ” Nikandros whispered, clearly dumbstruck. 

_ Magic _ . It had to be magic. 

The beauty caught his breath again and Damianos heard more loud crashes in the forest, along with shouts. In heavily-accented Akielon the young man began again, his eyes desperate. “Please help me.”

 


	4. The City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new update before I head out! My birthday is this Sunday so my friend and I are going to Canada for the weekend! I might not get much writing done, but I am going to be eating all the food Quebec has to offer.  
> It is confirmed that they are in Arles and who could this golden-haired beauty be, I wonder???? Though not a city of gold, I made Vere magic! And kind of like a mermaid palace with all that mother-of-pearl everywhere ;)  
> I also really regret that I could not put Laurent in Chel's skirt from the movie, but it just didn't fit in with the look of Vere. His ass and hips are the same though <3   
> I hope you guys enjoy!

**4\. The City**

When the large group of soldiers who had been chasing the young beauty through the forest emerged, Damianos and his group were ready for them. 

Damianos had helped him off the ground--hesitating for a moment before he touched those elegant hands; he wondered if he could feel that magic coursing under that fine skin but...no the grip was utterly human. He was dressed unsuitably for running through the forest, wearing only a gold ring and white satin shirt that hung off his shoulders and barely fell to mid-thigh, so Nikandros took off his cloak and draped it over their new companion.

“So kind.” The beauty said to Nikandros as Nikandros gently wrapped him in the length of cloth. “But leave my hands free.”

He had magic hands. His weapon. 

“Are we to fight then?” Nikandros asked.

“The stars.” Damianos said quietly to Nikandros as the pursuers came closer. Nik, clever Nik, noticed immediately. He nodded as silhouettes began to appear amongst the trees.

Damianos drew his two-handed sword and Pallas and Nikandros quickly followed suit. Damianos sincerely hoped that they wouldn’t be drawn into a fight but he was weak to beauties who asked him for help. 

Guards--Damianos would recognize guards no matter the place--stopped short at the edge of the forest, their eyes growing wide at seeing the three foreigners standing on the beach. Damianos also noted that their weapons were minimal; perhaps one per soldier and very light: bows, short swords, rapiers. He narrowed his eyes as one of the men raised their hands towards where Nik was shielding their new companion and sparks raced between the gaps in his fingers.

He felt fury itching at his temples and snarled at the man. “Hurt him and I’ll  _ kill _ you.” The hands dropped accordingly.

No one moved for a long moment and when Damianos stared at the individual men, they all looked away before he did. It was the Veretian beauty that found his voice first and his tone was sweetly mocking.

“Hello gentlemen. What a surprise to see you here.”

“Y-your Highness.” The man who appeared to be the captain of the little chase party stepped forward without taking his eyes away from Damianos for more than a few moments. “Are you unharmed?” 

“I am fine though...I insist you refer to me as ‘Exalted One’.” 

Nikandros coughed to cover up what was sure to be helpless laughter and the guards looked at Damianos as if he had laid a curse upon them and their children. There was a long moment where no one seemed to know what to do.

One of the guards was all but glaring at Damianos and Damianos found he did not care for it at all. He stared back until the other man turned white and looked away. 

“Astonishing…” The beauty behind him whispered.

“I-I think you should--.” The captain of the guard seemed to be ready to order Damianos to do something, which he found he did not care for. He threw back his shoulders to give himself the illusion of additional height.

“I think you should choose your next words carefully. We have traveled too far on too important a journey to be waylaid by you. I insist you take us to the closest town or city so that we might speak with the local lord.” He smiled at their shuffling indecision. “Alternately, we will slaughter you where you stand on this beach and find the way on our own.”

Though they were outnumbered two to one, Damianos liked his, Pallas, and Nikandros’ chances. These guards were on the slender side. 

There were some glances exchanged amongst the guards before the captain seemed to come to a decision. 

“We understand and also wish to avoid bloodshed. I imagine the Regent would also wish to speak with…travelers.” He looked unused to even saying the words. Then his eyes darted to where Nikandros was standing. “If you would--.”

“He is coming with us.” Nikandros said quickly and the captain shot him a dark look. When Damianos glanced behind him, he saw the lovely man beaming at the captain from where Nikandros was trying to shield him from view. “We must make sure he is safely returned.”

“How kind of them.” Their companion said cheekily. “You’ll understand if I prefer their company to yours.” 

Damianos watched carefully for magic, but that beautiful face remained smooth and untroubled and Nikandros was unhurt, so it was clear that they were taking his threats seriously. Even if the captain of the guard looked like he had sucked a rotten lemon.

“Very well.”

Things had happened so quickly that Damianos had not even had time to prepare a plan. 

The ship could not very well be dragged through the forest and he was not sure if they were close to the capital of whichever country they had landed in. Though…he was reasonably certain they were in Vere and that they were close to the capital city. 

He remembered the stars and thought of what a beautiful coincidence this was. If it was as he suspected, then he believed their boat would remain undamaged.  

Damianos turned back to Nikandros, surveying his expression before considering how they would go about this. “Are you alright to guard?”

“Of course.” Nikandros was showing all his nervous tells but his voice was calm. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Above all others.”

Nikandros ducked down and the beautiful Veretian man blanched. “ _ What are you _ \--?”

“Be at ease.” Damianos said, wanting to kiss the ends of that golden hair. He settled for a pat on the shoulder instead. “He won’t harm you.”

“Running barefoot through the forest must have torn your feet to shreds.” Nikandros said, having noticed the dirt caked up to the young man’s ankles. “It will do you no good if you cannot walk. Unless you would like one of us to carry you through the city.” 

“You don’t have to carry me.” He looked calm but Damianos saw that his ears were pink.

Nikandros  _ tsk _ -ed in disapproval, like an old Akielon lady whose offer of food had been refused. “Must you be so stubborn?”

“You’ll find I--.” He did not get to finish his sentence, because Nikandros simply hoisted one foot off the ground, Damianos putting a steadying hand on the young man’s back so he did not topple over backwards.

The young beauty’s feet were filthy but unhurt and he raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘I told you so’. Still Nik cradled them and passed Damianos his water flask; the young magician’s eyes grew wide as Damianos poured water and massaged the mud away. 

“Can you carry him, Nik?”

“Of course.” Nikandros held the magician closer and his blond head whipped between the two of them.

“You don’t have to--!”

“It’s no issue to me.” Nikandros added smoothly, getting to his feet. He was using that tone that allowed no quarter and the young man went silent as Nikandros smiled at Damianos and found it returned with equal warmth. “And Damianos is plenty to keep the both of us safe.” 

“Will they attempt to attack us?” Damianos asked.

The magician glanced between the guards and Damianos. “I don’t think so. You are somewhat…unique and it is rather unnerving. No, I believe you will get to the city unharmed.”

The four of them stepped into the dark recesses of the forest and Damianos realized that it truly would take magic to navigate through the trees alone and barefoot. The ground was rocky and uneven and Damianos saw several tangles of dark green thorns in the thicket; it was like a forest from a fairy story.

He nearly toppled over as blue flame bobbed in lazy circles a few feet above the ground. When he looked back, the lovely magician’s lips quirked up quickly in a crooked smile as flames licked at his fingers.

Nikandros looked as if he wished to drop the beauty, such was his shock.

“Will you tell us of your magic?” Damianos asked at a whisper.

The young man gave a cool approximation of a laugh and glanced between Damianos and Nikandros as if he were sizing them up. “Let us not be coy about all of this. You may very well have bought me a few more miserable hours in this life. When we get to the city, I’ll tell you anything you like.”

The blue flames illuminated the curve of his cheek and he was so lovely Nikandros almost tripped over a protruding tree root for his staring. Damianos wondered if the young man would consent to telling him how and where he liked to be kissed.  

“Which city are we being shown to?” Pallas asked softly.

“Arles, naturally.” 

Damianos felt his heart pounding against his ribcage. It was one thing to suspect that they were in Vere, but another matter altogether to hear that their navigation had gone so well that they were anchored by the capital city. 

“Thank the gods. How long until we reach Arles?”

“A half hour’s walk.” He said, sounding almost triumphant. “I used my… _ gift _ to run faster. It would be faster if you did not insist on carrying me.”  _ Ah _ . So he still had his dander up over their courtesies. Nikandros laughed softly and Damianos heard him hoist the fiesty magician up higher. 

“Do you think his arms are just for show?” Damianos asked laughing.

“You are light as a dream. Not a burden in the least.” Nikandros assured him and he fell to stunned silence, the flames flaring up in violet sparks for a moment before he found a way to respond to Nik’s sweetness.

“It is as if you all come from a hero’s story.” He grumbled and Damianos grinned.

“We took them to heart as children.” Nikandros said; Damianos was instantly overcome with memories of himself and Nik spending entire days racing small boats and swimming in lagoons before sleeping sunwarm and browned in a pile underneath the shade of a lemon tree. “And we did not hear your name.” 

“Perhaps you should have listened.” The young magician said quickly and Damianos and Pallas had to choke back laughter. “I am sure we can introduce ourselves once we reach Arles.”

They walked in silence for several minutes, Damianos continuously startled by the guards that occasionally waited for them amongst the trunks of the massive trees. He looked back often to see if Nik was tiring but he walked with as much ease as ever. He wondered if the Veretian man was using magic to make himself lighter.

The first thing Damianos saw as the trees began to clear was the gentle curling spire of the top of a castle. So different from any architecture he had encountered before, it was intricately assembled to look like a pale gray seashell. The next thing he saw were the palace walls, beautiful and more for show than anything else, and it occurred to him that the Veretians were very fond of keeping people out. 

It seemed that the guards were going to usher them down the path to the back of the palace but Damianos stopped when he heard that lilting Akielon.

“Go through the city center.” He ordered, his eyes all but shooting sparks at the guards. “Trust me…please.”

Nikandros looked to Damianos and Pallas touched the pommel of his sword. Damianos nodded softly and took the path to the immediate right. He and Pallas held back and allowed Nikandros to pass in front of them. Their strides were worth two of the Veretians but it still only took the guards a few moments to notice that their ‘guests’ were straying from the original plan.

“Wh-where are you--?” It was the captain who reached out to get Damianos’ attention but he fell short of the shoulder and had to grasp at Damianos’ elbow.

Damianos gently pulled his arm away and stared down at the captain with affected disdain. “Do you truly expect us to sneak in through the  _ servants’ _ quarters? Like common thieves? Like a filthy secret?” He heard Nikandros clear his throat. “No, we intend to announce our arrival by walking to the palace doors as royal envoy should.”

When he turned his back to the captain, he could not help the grin that crept on his face when he saw Pallas, Nikandros, and the lovely Veretian battling their own smiles.

“Y-You  _ can’t _ !”

“You are more than welcome to try and stop us.” Damianos said as he began walking again. No one attempted to stop him.

 

Arles was astonishing.

As they had walked through the wide city streets, the Veretian people had stopped in their tracks the moment they had taken notice of the enormously tall foreigners that were traipsing through the city. It may have also been the arresting beauty of their companion who had insisted on being put down before entering Arles and was now leading them barefoot on streets that looked to have been paved of polished nacre. 

Most of the buildings were made of stone that looked smooth as the inner linings of seashells, iridescent, and draped in silk pennants as colorful and and varied as a reef.

For a man used to the simple lines and solid colors of Ios, Arles was a riot on the senses. Surely the amount of detail that went into the outsides of the buildings and on the designs of their clothing was only achieved by magic. 

What he did notice, amidst his awe, was the alarming lack of goods related to the sea.

He saw no sea creatures swimming in deep barrels or gutted on tables, nor did he see nets or poles or any seafaring tools. It seemed odd for a city whose architecture reminded him of seashells and was only a half hour’s walk from the seaside.

And the palace was the crowning glory of the place.

It rose tall and beautiful against the pale gray of the sky and Damianos was so busy taking in all the astonishing detail of the place that he almost did not notice the phalanx of guards approaching until they were almost upon his group. There was a huge crowd gathered and staring on either side of the wide street. 

“Excuse me,” Damianos said as he and Nikandros easily slipped defensively in front of the Veretian beauty.

“Oh no, by all means. I am  _ so _ excited to see what happens.”

“I take it we can be an imposition to these men?” Nikandros asked with a smile threatening the corners of his lips. Damianos also had to fight back a smile; he of all people knew how stubbornly frustrating Nik could be when he set his mind to it. 

“I will be the last to try and stop you.” The Veretian man said, as if he had been waiting his entire life for this exact set of circumstances.

The captain of  _ this _ guard was much more elegantly attired than the man they had encountered on the beaches, but he looked like a bare knuckle boxer that had been draped in finery and set upon a white warhorse. Just for his bullying look, Damianos disliked him on sight. 

He yanked the reins, probably in an attempt to have the horse rear but it merely pranced in place as the rider seemed ready to make some grand speech.

Damianos interrupted him before he could even begin, making sure his voice was loud enough that the crowd gathered around them could hear his every word. “Sir, you look to be the captain of the guards.”

“I--” He tried to get a word in edgewise.

“No need to speak. I have no need to hear your title or you name.” Nikandros coughed at his unusually brusque response. “We are a diplomatic envoy from the nation of Akielos and we come on the most urgent of business. It has been an exhausting journey and I demand an explanation as to why you are preventing us from announcing ourselves to our hosts.”

“Who are you?” The captain had gotten over his shock and dismay and moved on to anger.

“I find your explanation rude and appallingly lackluster.” Damianos threw back his shoulders to make it clear that he was nearly as tall as the captain’s horse. “And you are hardly of the status to level such questions. Since you have proven yourself incapable of responding to a simple request, I demand to pass so that we might find someone who is capable enough to show us the proper reverence.”

Damianos was duly aware that the crowd and the other foot soldiers were looking at him with barefaced shock. The captain meanwhile looked as though he was trying to piss a peach pit. He was red faced and sweating, his eyes bulging as he stared Damianos down. 

Maybe the man had no capabilities with magic because it certainly looked like he wished to smite Damianos from the face of the earth. 

There was a feeling like the rush of wind before a massive wave but Damianos stood his ground. 

The captain exhaled violently, as if someone had punched him in the gut, and Damianos heard the soft laughter of his Veretian companion over the gasp of the crowd. The man looked a bit green about the gills.

“You can go past them if you wish.” The beauty behind him said. “They are terrified of you and will leap from your path once you get close.”

“Likely due to your charming personality.” Nikandros said. Damianos had to resist the urge to tug on his braids.

“Or the fact that I could likely move that horse.”

“Now  _ that  _ would be something to see.” The lovely magician said.

But he was right. 

The guards all but scattered as Damianos and his party began to walk forward and, though they encountered even larger crowds on the way to doors of the palace, not a single person did more than to stare in open shock.

It was unsettling but he could hardly dwell on it with the castle so close at hand.

The main doors to the castle were like pirate’s treasure, like those stained glass windows in Patras, but Damianos realized it was more layered nacre inlaid with opal. Clearly news of their arrival had spread and there was another crowd of wealthy and powerful and beautiful waiting inside the main hall. 

Their companion seemed not to notice any of them and cut through the crowds as a shark through baitfish. He was clearly important.

They followed him silently; Damianos wondered if speaking would cause the spell to break somehow and the Veretian nobles would pounce on them. At least none of them were trying to use magic on him. 

He felt Nik’s fingers brush against his in a show of comfort and Damianos hooked his pinky through Nik’s. “Hopefully this witch is not leading us to his cauldron.”

“ _ Please _ ,” Nikandros whispered in response. “We are too muscular to be good as stew meat. He’s more likely to grill us over an open flame.”

“Thank you, Nikandros. You inspire confidence.”

“Oh gods…” Pallas nearly moaned, not realizing that his companions were joking.

But they were not led to the back of the palace to where the kitchens would surely be. 

Instead, they were led up a seemingly endless set of stairs to the wing that faced west toward the sea. The suite of rooms were extensively lavish, with stairs leading even higher--perhaps into one of the castle towers--but simply furnished. It was clear that their companion was very important and very fond of reading. 

Damianos trailed his fingers across the spines of a half dozen books, wondering what kind of Veretian secrets were hidden inside, and nearly missed the beauty speaking to them again.

“Peace at last. I’m sure you have quite a few questions and I am more than willing to answer them after a brief reprieve. And I suppose I should have you brace for the pets. And my uncle.” 

He dropped Nikandros’ cloak to the closest ornate chair and Damianos almost choked on his tongue as he got an uninterrupted view of a very fine backside and a toned pair of white legs. When he glanced at Nik, wondering if he was the only one who had seen, and he saw that Nik had averted his eyes and was positively scarlet.

Pallas was still looking around, oblivious. Perhaps he was looking for the stew pot. 

When their gaze returned to the young nobleman, he had donned a pair of tight black pants that fit on the slimmest part of his already trim waist. Veretian clothes seemed magical for the way that they clung like a second skin. 

“W-who are you?” Nikandros asked again, finding his voice before Damianos could. 

The beauty ran his hands through his lovely golden hair and grinned catlike, a little wicked. 

“How kind of you to remember. I am Laurent, the prince of Vere.”

 


	5. The Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have 3 disclaimers for this chapter haha!  
> 1\. The Regent is in this so gird your loins for his particular brand of fuckery.  
> 2\. Laurent is wholly unprepared for just how sweet Nik and Damen are to him. Rest assured, he is losing his mind.  
> 3\. I...am actually just making up the rules to Veretian magic as I go, so please just roll with the inconsistencies and questions you have about it haha! I'm just having fun and making magical rules are hard.  
> In any case, I had a great time last weekend (even though I'm behind on my writing)! Thank you all for the sweet wishes and the comments! I promise I will respond to the rest of them soon, I've just been very busy and twice as tired haha!  
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

**5\. The Beauty**

The prince lounged with affected ease across one of his chairs, his legs dangling over the arms, though Damianos could sense his tension. He glanced between Damianos and Nikandros with those ocean blue eyes of his flashing between suspicion and charm. They waited patiently for him. 

“Might I begin with the line of questioning? You can appreciate that I am…somewhat unsettled by three large foreigners appearing from the sea and we are on a bit of a time limit as word spreads.”

“By all means.” Damianos said. “Without your...powers our welcome might have been distinctly less friendly.”

“I have no doubt you would have handled yourselves beautifully.” Laurent said looking Damianos up and down. “And you saved me a lot of effort.”

“Does it hurt to use magic?” Nikandros asked, clearly concerned with how tired their new acquaintance looked; he looked as though he had expended a lot of effort regardless of their intervention. Laurent looked at him with a funny expression, as if he could not believe Nikandros was asking after his health.

“No. No more than exhaling.” He smiled but it was calculating. “Now…who are all of you?”

“My name is Damianos. I am the king of Akielos, chosen by my  _ kyroi _ for my strength and seafaring skills. This is my dearest friend, Nikandros of Delpha, and Pallas, the most talented of our naval recruits. It is an honor and a miracle to have met you under these circumstances, Your Highness.”

Prince Laurent colored a little high on the cheek as if he was unused to such deference. “Likewise. Though I must say, our meeting was hardly under the most dignified of circumstances.”

“They were chasing you.” Nikandros put things together first and his look darkened. He was never fond of people, especially allies, being treated with disrespect. “Your own royal guards. Did they plan to hurt you?”

“Oh of that there is no question.” Laurent shrugged easily as if such things happened regularly and could not be helped. “However, the reason _ why _ is something that will take me quite some time to explain. You’ll forgive me if I save it for the end. You all must have sailed here. How in the name of the gods did you manage to make it past my b--Vere’s defenses? It was meant to be impenetrable, if not deadly.” 

“That is also a bit of a long story.” Damianos said teasingly and felt that familiar swoop in his stomach as Laurent fixed him with a look of baffled annoyance at having his words turned back on him. “But, to be concise, we found a map aboard a Patran pirate ship.”

He pulled it from the waist of his chiton and unrolled it on the closest table so that Prince Laurent might look. If he was surprised, he gave nothing away.

“Unusual.” Laurent said as he tapped his fingers against his bottom lip. “Why did you help me on the beach? Without question…” 

Damianos looked to Nikandros with a soft smile and Nik took over. “It is your ring, Your Highness.” Laurent glanced down at the golden signet ring on his hand. “The stars on it are the same as the sigil on the corner of the map. We presumed you were of some importance. And even so…you were clearly in distress. We are not so heartless as to leave you with them especially in your state of…undress.” Though Nik could hide behind his darker skin, Damianos could still tell when his friend was given over to blush and he could see it now, as Nikandros clearly remembered the lovely bare legs they had seen earlier.

Laurent’s ears were red at Nikandros’ statement. “How…honorable of you.”

Damianos shared a look of disbelief between Nikandros and Pallas. As if rescuing a half naked young man who begged for their help was something to be praised as ‘honorable’. This Laurent really was something. 

“Why did you come to Vere?”

Damianos hoped that all the goodwill they had built with the prince would be enough for him to hear them out and hopefully offer a solution. “With all due respect, Your Highness, we need your help. We are desperate.” 

With Laurent staring at him impassively, nodding occasionally to prove he was listening, Damianos explained the plight of Ios. 

“Our engineers and city planners have no solution and we came to this solution out of desperation: to put ourselves and our city at your mercy.”

Laurent stared them both down and Damianos felt a cold drip of fear as he considered the thought that fairy lights and unhurt feet were the most powerful things that could be expected from the Veretians. Laurent let them wait just a moment too long before he smiled sweetly. 

“I think…we can come to an agreement.” 

Damianos could have kissed him and Nik seemed equally overcome. 

“You can lift an island from the sea?” Pallas clearly forgot his quiet decorum at the thought of such a feat.

“I have never tried but…you’ll find that I am also desperate.” 

The beautiful prince did not choose to elaborate on why he was desperate so Damianos took it as an opportunity to ask some questions of his own. Laurent’s already-wide eyes got a little wider as Damianos pulled up another chair and sat close.

“Tell us about the magic.” Laurent’s jaw twitched and Damianos quirked his mouth up in half a smile. “Please.”

“Very well. What do you want to know?”

Faced with the opportunity, Damianos was suddenly overcome by all that he did not know.

Luckily, Nikandros was quick. “Are you born with this magic or do you have to learn it? What can you do with it?”

“The people of Vere are born with magic,” Laurent said and he sounded warmly proud of the fact, “in varying degrees of course. And practice and study can raise anyone’s power. The average citizens are born with a minimal amount and it rarely goes above convenience. Usually they hone the magic for their trade; magical tracking for hunters, artisans creating beautiful furniture or cloth with magic, magic to keep disease at bay or improve the taste and quality of food. Small things.”

“It hardly seems small to us.” Damianos said, his voice breathless with delight. He was thinking of all the things already magical to him that would know even more beauty with these Veretians. Sailing was the first thing that came to mind.

The wind would always flow smooth, the wood would never wear, and he could catch fire to a pirate sail from a mile away. He was not fool enough to think he could ever best the eldritch magic of the ocean but it would be exhilarating to have that magical edge.

Lovemaking was the second thing he considered but he had to stop. Even though his wool chiton was longer than the ones he wore at home but the style was unforgiving when it came to hiding arousal. And Nikandros had asked another question while he was lost in loose-limbed, sweat-tangled thoughts.

“Sometimes someone is born with a great deal of magic but…” Laurent’s expression became a bit dark. “In any case it is rare for the common citizen to use magic for anything more than convenience.”

“And the nobility?” Nikandros asked.

Laurent smiled softly and it was sunlight and gold and fresh air. “I was told at the beginning of Vere that the kings and queens and lords would marry whoever had the most magic so…it flows strong in my bloodline. But I still practice. I must be the strongest, the best with it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation and Damianos could see in him the determined scholar who read until he bled and poured every fiber of himself into his magic until his mistakes were fixed. 

Something about that tenacity made him dear and Damianos felt blooms in his chest.

“It must take one with considerable skill to hold up an entire island.” Nikandros sounded impressed in spite of himself.

“Small things do not take much concentration. A simple language spell for example stays intact unless I take it away.” Laurent said. “But creating tangible things, keeping them intact take more strength and concentration. The larger the...magic, the more concentration needed. I cannot hold a city up indefinitely without killing myself but…I can try to think of an alternative to keep your island up.”

“The barriers you have to protect yourselves are clearly magical.” Pallas brought up quietly, unwilling to interrupt unless there was a long lull in conversation. “Who keeps them up? It must take a great deal of focus.” 

The mood shifted and Laurent tensed his shoulders, taking a few moments of introspection before speaking. “That--.”

“Oh save my soul, those chatty bitches were  _ not _ exaggerating. You all are built like  _ gods _ .” 

Everyone spun to face whoever it was who had not even had the courtesy to knock before entering the prince’s rooms. He looked like a pirate who had been laced into a nobleman’s clothes and he grinned like he wanted to devour them whole. 

“Lazar.”

“Hello Your Highness. You’ve found something special, haven’t you?” He winked at Pallas before sobering a little. “You had to know it was coming. Your--the Regent requests your presence and the presence of our...guests. I believe he said ‘immediately’ but I was not listening very closely.”

Laurent twisted his lips at the man, his demeanor distinctly cooler at the interruption. But he recovered himself beautifully and fetched a thin golden circlet from his writing desk. “Well, I suppose it cannot be helped.”

“What do you mean?” Nikandros asked.

“My uncle will no doubt have heard about you and of all the things you can do. Doubtless he will want to…show you off to an adoring public. Our first outside visitors in generations.” He did not sound excited about the prospect. The man in the door--Lazar--had settled in as if he was planning to listen for a good long while until Prince Laurent fixed him with a good-natured glare. Pallas gasped as a small comet of orange fire raced towards Lazar’s face and he caught it in his calloused hands with a grin. “You can leave us.”

Lazar flicked his eyes between Damianos’ party and Laurent, likely testing his luck as the flame danced around his knuckles. His eyes glimmered orange and green in turns. “Duly noted.”

As the rakish fire mage left them alone again, Damianos turned back to Laurent with one more question before they went to whatever was waiting for them outside of that door. “I am far from sated but...if we have no choice, we must go present ourselves. Your uncle is the Regent?”

“He is.” Laurent said, his voice cold, good humor evaporating.

Damianos suddenly wished he had asked about the royal family of Vere. Laurent had shuttered them away quickly when they had arrived at the palace and Damianos wondered if the prince did not get along with his family or if they had come to some unfortunate end. It seemed the type of question to be asked later, under more relaxed circumstances.

“Forgive me for being so bold,” Nikandros said, “but you seem a young man grown. Are you set to inherit soon?” It was true. Laurent was clearly not a teenager and Damianos flushed as he thought of the prince’s legs and backside.

“Only a little while longer.” The desperation was almost outright. 

He did not elaborate and instead stalked ahead with half-closed eyes as if he was bracing himself for something. Damianos was unnerved, but followed, Nik almost stepping on his heels as they walked back down the winding, ornate halls of the palace of Arles. 

At least he could take some comfort in the sword still strapped to his hip.

Clearly there was something going on because they did not encounter another soul on their journey through the massive castle until the four of them came to a sprawling balcony. It was guarded by the very same captain of the guard that Damianos had been so rude to in the street and the man went red with rage at his approach. 

He attempted to step in front of Damianos and give him a piece of his mind but Damianos fixed him with a look of confusion.

“Have we met before?” He asked with all assumed innocence, before shouldering past. He heard Nikandros wheeze trying to keep from laughing. 

Even as used to he was to being the beloved king of his own nation, Damianos was fully unprepared for the crowd that was waiting below the balcony in the courtyard beneath the palace. At the sight of him there was a collective gasp from the Veretians who had come to see the first Akielon guests in ages. Or at least that was what he first assumed. 

As Laurent moved closer, the people cheered but a deathly silence fell when the man who had been introduced as the Regent came abreast of them both.

He was a middle aged man, slender and fair, and Damianos did see the touches of Prince Laurent in him: the high cheekbones, the golden hair--though his was touched with silver--and eyes more ice than ocean. He had the same cunning, the same fire in his expression as Laurent, as if he was sizing his guests up for a fight.

He also wore a crown larger and more elaborate than Laurent’s, which Damianos found a little vulgar. In his opinion, it was in poor taste for a regent to wear a larger crown than the crown prince.

“So you are the foreign visitors who have landed on our shores.” He said in a voice as smooth and silken as his shirtsleeves. Though it was low and measured, it seemed to carry across the lawn so that the citizens might hear. More magic he supposed.

The Regent gestured over the massive crowd, almost dismissively. “The people of Vere welcome you.”

The crowd cheered in a massive roar as if they had been waiting for this moment and Damianos remembered the easy way his own countrymen greeted him in the harbor and served on his ship and smiled at him over his sheets.

“You are kind to welcome us so.” He said carefully and felt shivers across his skin as his own voice carried like the low boom of thunder. “Especially the Crown Prince Laurent.”

The blue of the Regent’s eyes flashed a bit of steel and Damianos wondered if he had misspoke. 

His smile was sharp. “Truly an auspicious visit. And now all of the people of Arles will see that the heavens have brought them to us as a lesson. To remind us of why we must hold Vere safe and separate. Observe.”

The crowd hushed and Damianos felt the magicked gaze of ten thousand, a hundred thousand eyes on him, somehow sure that they could see him as if he stood next to them on the streets. And the Regent of Vere smiled coolly at him.

He did not raise his hands to create sparks or fire but Damianos could feel the intent of an attack. It was almost like the feeling when his hair stood on his arms when lightning struck the sea and he braced himself accordingly.

He would not flinch at the magic. 

Damianos felt that soft rush like the passing of a massive wave and the Regent of Vere smiled at him. When Damianos glanced behind him to make sure Nik and Pallas were unharmed, he saw that Nik was immediately at his back, blocking Prince Laurent from view.

“Astonishing.” The Regent breathed before allowing his voice to carry to the crowd below. “As you can see, these men have been blessed by the heavens. They are immune to our magic.”

_ Ah, so that was it then _ .

That feeling of rushing around him, the look fear and consternation of the guards, Laurent’s amazement by them. They had all likely tried to work magic on him and panicked as they fell to failure.

The Regent must have tried and Damianos felt irrational anger rise in his chest. 

It was hardly proper protocol to attempt an attack on a visiting king who had done him no harm. Damianos felt the insult acutely and would not soon forget it.

“Such a powerful group, they will doubtless be staying with us in Arles and will wish to see all the feats of magic that we are capable of.” Damianos was unable to hide; he did want to see what they could do with this skill of theirs. “My nephew will be more than happy to accommodate you in this.” 

He said it kindly enough but Damianos got the distinct feeling that he was being offered something that came with strings attached. It also sounded as if the prince was being forced into this arrangement.

“If he wishes.” Damianos responded, inclining his head without breaking eye contact. 

He felt a steady touch on the center of his back. “Damianos,” Nikandros said softly, “I wish to go inside.” To the untrained ear, he sounded calm and in control of himself, but Damianos could tell he was disturbed by something. 

Damianos ground his teeth together to keep from losing himself to anger. Hurting Nikandros was an unforgivable offense in his book and he wanted nothing more than to go back to privacy and check Nik and Pallas for injuries. 

He turned without bidding the Regent of Vere farewell. 

Damianos did, however, glance back to the citizens of the city who were obviously terrified of him because they bowed their heads as he looked down at them. Only one gaze was left on him and it was the Regent of Vere’s. And it just…did not seem right. 

He put his hand on the center of Nik’s back and all but herded his company back into the palace. 

“Are you hurt?” He hissed to Nik, unable to stand not knowing.

“I’m fine.” Nikandros whispered back. “It’s the prince…” 

Aside from Lazar there was a man waiting for them immediately inside, wearing a silver pin of the same royal starburst emblem on his chest. He looked concerned, but Prince Laurent ducked his head and waved him away. “No. No, Jord, I’m fine. Please…show the Akielons to--.”

“Pallas, will you go?” Damianos asked. “We still have things to discuss with the prince.” 

Pallas nodded, still shocked beyond words by all they had seen. Lazar grinned though it was not at all reassuring. He looked like he would have seduced Pallas with his magic, had he been able to.

As Pallas was shown to their quarters, Damianos followed Nikandros who was all but helping Laurent along. The young prince was staggering a bit and, more than once, Nik had to steady Laurent. Laurent tried to brush him away, the same way he had done with the man, Jord, but he was clearly unprepared for how stubborn Nik could be.

And Damianos would have done the same when they returned to the royal chambers and he saw the state Prince Laurent was in. 

His pale skin had a grayish tint as if he was ill and his breathing was a little labored. He was clearly weak as well because, as Nikandros pushed him to a chair, he did not have the energy to push Nikandros away. “Stop, please. I…I am fine. I…” Damianos pushed the top of his waterskien to Laurent’s lips and the beautiful prince drank deep. 

There was a bit of blood coming from Laurent’s nose and Nikandros wiped it away with his thumb. “Your uncle. He directed his...attack at you?”

Laurent looked up at them both and it was a cold, hard stare.

“What in the name of the gods is going on?” Damianos asked. “What is going on in Vere?”

 


	6. The Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends, I am about 30 some minutes late with this chapter because I got a day off of work and I slept until 1 PM haha! I'm tired as all hell, but here's your new chapter because I love you all!  
> Instead of giving them all 3 days, like in the Road to El Dorado, I gave them 3 months to solve this problem and poor Nik is DYING by the end of this chapter. It must just be devastating to have a friend who does not notice your feelings for shit ahaha!  
> Also I love Laurent's constant slackjawed amazement when Damen and Nik are just...decent human beings.  
> Enjoy this newest chapter and thank you, as always, for the love!

**6\. The Shield**

It was difficult trying to understand what the Regent of Vere had done to Laurent--what he had tried to do to Damianos and Nikandros and Pallas--in front of most of the city.

Some Veretian magic could apparently be invisible to the Akielon eye, though Damianos had felt it passing over him. Prince Laurent had told them, after more water, and a moment’s rest that the Regent had tried to work mind magic on them, tried to compel them to do his wishes.

“It was probably made clear to him that conjuring magic--fire or force, for example--that our soldiers use does not work on you. So he tried his own magic, and he is frustratingly good at it.”

“There is more than one type of magic?” Damianos asked. He was very tired and there was a lot of information to process but he had to keep asking questions before he forgot them.

“There are three types.” Laurent said. “It is almost forbidden in Vere to learn all three but…there are some who ignore these antiquated rules.”

“And are you one of those rebellious few?” Nikandros asked.

He need not have asked. If he was Veretian, Damianos knew he would do all he could to learn every intricacy of magic.

Laurent smiled wide and had to wipe away another spot of blood. “Creation magic is the oldest and rarest type; it is the magic of love and healing and protection and some say it can be found in the very nature of Vere. Conjuring magic is the most common form of magic. It includes elemental magic like summoning fire and controlling tangible objects; you saw it with my fire in the forest. And compelling magic is what my uncle used and it is the most difficult to learn and use. With compelling magic you can attempt to move people to your will and even siphon magic from others, though…that is also fairly taboo in our country. And all magic takes energy.”

“What did he try to make us do?” Nikandros asked, shooting Damianos occasional glances of worry.

He was right to be worried.

Damianos did not care for the idea that someone might force him to do something against his own nature and he saw red when Laurent saw fit to explain what he might have been forced to do. “He was trying to convince one of you to kill me. Slice my throat, toss me over the balcony, typical fare.” Laurent shrugged and Damianos wondered if his life was so often put at risk. “And when it did not work on the three of you he tried to get me to attack Nikandros.”

Damianos felt a hand on his arm, holding him back and it was a good thing too. Rage made him tremble and Nikandros was the only thing keeping him in this room.

“Why me?”

“Excellent question. Perhaps because you were closest to me? Or because Damianos cares for you? In any case, he might have used that as justification to be rid of me and then to execute or exile you. I can only imagine his panic that compelling magic does not work on you.”

Damianos dragged two chairs over to where Prince Laurent was getting the flush back in his cheeks and sat as close to him as he dared. Laurent, at this point was their greatest chance of survival in Vere and Damianos was getting the sinking feeling that things were not well in the magical city. He did not want to walk into a war unaware.

“Tell me everything.” He demanded and then, when Laurent raised one eyebrow. “Please.”

Laurent took off his circlet and rubbed the slim curve where his neck met his shoulders.

And how fitting that the story he told was like something from a fairy tale.

Laurent, the orphan prince, with only a few months until he was set to inherit the throne was in a near-constant power struggle with his uncle, who had been the Regent of Vere since Laurent was fourteen. If Laurent was to be believed, then he and his uncle were two of the most powerful magicians in Vere--and it was just as well for Laurent; he seemed so unperturbed by the mental attacks because they had happened before and had only become more frequent with Laurent’s increasing age.

Things were coming to a quiet boil inside the palace walls.

Nikandros was rubbing his temples by the end of Laurent’s explanation and Damianos was rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip as he thought about what he should do.

“When you came upon me on the beach, you bore witness to another one of his attacks. He sent hired mercenaries dressed as guards against me and I ran to the beach to avoid any of my few loyal men used as collateral damage. My uncle loves collateral damage. In any case, your resistance to magic is a welcome coincidence; I might have died if they could compel you.”

“How do we know…if you are telling us the truth?” Nikandros asked, which was rather daring for him. He was cautious by nature but he looked as though he wanted to believe Laurent.

Laurent fixed him with a gaze that might have frozen a normal man. But Nikandros was not a normal man and he did not flinch until Laurent smiled, sweetly intrigued, and there was a bit of disappointment that replaced the ice.

“You don’t. That’s the beauty of trust, no?” He looked to Damianos then. “You can choose to believe me or find me a vicious liar. But I swear to you on my city, on my magic, if he has the opportunity, my uncle will kill me.”

Damianos was sure there were other cues--small details--that he had likely missed, but he could only remember Laurent on the beach.

His wide eyes, bare legs, and filthy feet. The slight sharpness of desperation as he had begged for help. It was hardly the state of a man who was confident in his position as the future king. His mouth was moving before he could stop himself.

“I believe you.”

Laurent blinked once, his face unreadable.

Damianos supposed that was his way of showing shock.

“I believe you and…we need to trust each other if we are going to save both of our cities.”

“We cannot very well kill a regent in cold blood without due cause.” Nikandros pointed out, always sensible.

“Nonsense.” Laurent responded and smiled wickedly at the chagrined look Nik gave him. “I am perfectly capable of ignoring a murder.”

“It would hardly endear us and our cause to the people of Arles.”

Laurent sobered again. “There is a difference to the people of Arles, between respect and fear of a ruler--no, it will take too long to explain. But my uncle does have friends in high places. Doubtless, they will be discussing at this moment what to do with the three of you.”

“We will not be moved from our goal.” Damianos said swiftly before Nik and Laurent could continue their verbal sparring match.

“I’m sure with a few hundred men they could wrestle you back onto that ship of yours.”

“Don’t bet that circlet on it.” Nik responded, whip quick, and Damianos wondered if he was going to have to separate the two of them.

“If we help you secure your kingship, will you stop Ios from sinking into the sea?”

Laurent looked at him and something was alight in his blue eyes.

He took a steadying breath. “I do not want to be king.”

Nikandros and Damianos exchanged a glance of shock and Laurent must have expected their response. “We won’t just…take your assistance and leave.” Laurent gave a small gasp of a laugh, as if he did not believe that he was being offered a trade from his guests.

He stood up with the grace of royalty, apparently fully recovered. “I do not want to be king because…the crown belongs to someone else. Wait.” Nikandros and Damianos both had their mouths open to ask and snapped them shut. “You need not even ask. Come with me and I’ll explain everything.”

Prince Laurent led them up the winding stair of the main tower until they reached the very top and a pair of dark blue double doors emblazoned with evermore starbursts. Laurent stopped in front of them and Nikandros moved automatically, pushing the doors open so that Laurent and Damianos could pass.

Laurent looked up at him as if he had nearly destroyed the palace and Nikandros blanched. “Your Highness! Did I--?”

“That door is surrounded by strong protective magic. I--no one should have been able to _touch_ it without…” He trailed off and Nikandros touched him hesitantly, unable to understand what an acceptable apology might be.  

Silence was the only acceptable response it seemed, and Damianos followed the prince into a simple, circular room drenched in the rosy-orange light of the setting sun. There was a man laid out in the very center of the room and Damianos could vaguely see the oily iridescence of some magic surrounding him, as if he was contained within a soap bubble.

As Damianos moved closer, he saw that the man was closer to him in age, perhaps a little older, with short cropped golden hair and similarly fine features hidden behind a layer of facial hair in darker gold. Damianos imagined that, if his eyes were open, they would be the same ocean blue as Prince Laurent’s.

He looked like one of those enchanted beauties, fast asleep under the sea, waiting for rescue.

“Your brother?” He guessed aloud.  

“Auguste, the Crown Prince of Vere, my older brother. He keeps our defenses aloft.” Laurent said, his voice at a reverent whisper. “He devotes all of his energy and magic to keeping the fog and the mazes and the whirlpools as deterrents.” Damianos now knew who was to blame for tampering with their compass.

“Why in the name of the gods is the Crown Prince taking on this task?” Nikandros asked, circling the prince. “If the defenses must be up at all times then he must do this indefinitely…”

Laurent looked as though he was going to reach past the shield to touch his brother but he withdrew his hand at the last moment. “He…he volunteered for the honor of protecting Vere. And so he is lost to me.”

Damianos knew it was coming before Prince Laurent turned to face him.

His face was set in determination. “There are few things I would not do or give to have my brother back. If you can help me find a way to free him of this responsibility then I will give you all I have. I will pour my magic into a bottle if I must, but this is my price to save your city.”

Damianos strode forward immediately, hand outstretched to seal the agreement, but Nikandros stopped him with one hand across the chest.

“How much time do we have? Is there any way of knowing?”

Nikandros had a point. If Ios was to sink into the sea within the month, then they needed a plan immediately. He dropped his hand and waited as Laurent looked at Nikandros with something akin to frustration. Nikandros held his gaze though he was flushed a bit at the prince’s intensity.

Laurent glanced at his sleeping brother before turning back with a distinctly feline smile. “Are either of you vehemently opposed to breaking rules?”

“No.” Damianos responded immediately at the same time Nikandros said, “I’d prefer to avoid it if possible.”

Laurent laughed before he could help himself. “Astonishing how the both of you managed to reach here unscathed with your conflicting opinions on getting into trouble.” Nikandros flushed even darker and Damianos bumped against him gently, knowing that Nik was ninety percent of his impulse control. “Well…I believe in this instance there is no way around it. Come with me.”

They left Prince Auguste to his rest and, after one last glance at the sleeping prince, Damianos closed the door behind him and allowed Laurent to put the magic seal back into place.

Prince Laurent led them to another room, this time with a domed ceiling of glass, the magic of it indicated by the fact that it was one solid piece, like the lense of a telescope. Damianos was so busy marveling at it, he almost missed Laurent flicking his fingers over the door, causing it to blaze white before shutting.

He smiled wickedly. “We are not technically supposed to be here so I’ve sealed the door.”

“Gods save us.” Nikandros groaned.

The rest of the room was filled with books and star maps on black paper, calendars and a massive silver bowl filled wrist deep with water. Laurent strode quickly to the silver bowl and Nikandros helped him unlace the ribbons of his sleeves.

“Thank you.” Laurent rolled up his sleeves to the elbow and brushed the blond hair from his face. “Now scrying is difficult and it takes a lot of strength; even our strongest masters rarely attempt it for fear of it draining them. But I am beholden to no such reservations. I may only be able to tell you one or two words but I will try my best to give you a date at the very least.”

“Stand behind him Nikandros.” Damianos said and amended once Laurent looked at him questioningly. “If you faint from exertion, we will hold you up.”

Laurent shook his head in disbelief. “You are the oddest men I have ever…well, whatever puts you at ease.”

Without any sort of incantation or rush of electricity, Laurent slid his hands gently under the surface of the water. Nikandros startled a little and Laurent arched his back as Nikandros briefly touched the center of his back.

“ _Ios_.” He whispered, the word sounding like music in his accent.

He was still for a moment but then Damianos felt the static of magic in the air and Laurent began to tremble, the water rippling under his fingers. Nik let go of him but laced his fingers through Damianos’ so that they would catch Laurent if he toppled backwards.

When Laurent spoke, it was so soft and pained that Damianos nearly missed it.

“Earthquake.”

 _Fuck_.

Damianos felt his stomach sink to his toes, felt illness creep up in his stomach as he heard the word. It was his worst fear confirmed and he did not like to think the earth shaking the delicate foundations of his city. He was so distraught that he nearly missed Laurent’s second word, more of an exhale than a whisper, as if he was pulling it unwilling from the universe.

“Ninety.”

Nikandros shot Damianos a troubled look and yelped as Laurent shuddered, his hands nearly upending the bowl as he pulled them out. Nikandros’ arm went around Laurent’s waist while Damianos grasped his arm and cupped the back of his neck in case he fell, but that stubborn prince stayed on his feet.

He smiled as he opened his eyes to their concerned faces. “Shall I fetch the smelling salts for you both?”

“Ohhhh, gods save us.” Nikandros groaned in relief.

“The gods are sluts.” Laurent responded. “I saw a city sliding to the sea. I am forced to assume it is yours.”

“In ninety days?” Damianos asked.

“Nikandros, the calendar.” Laurent said, dreamlike. He shifted smoothly out of Damianos’ grasp as Nikandros scrambled to search for a calendar amidst the piles of papers. “Left side of the desk, under the chart of the Draco--,” he jolted as Damianos began to wipe his hands clean of water and looked up at Damianos with his innocent, wide eyes, “ah. We…have to hurry. Someone might have felt the scrying.”

“Find it Nikandros?” Damianos asked, without taking his eyes from Laurent’s face.

“Yes,” Nikandros said and Laurent broke his gaze from Damianos. The three of them looked to the calendar that Nikandros had retrieved and counted the days until an earthquake would supposedly sink Ios to the sea. Ninety days to find a solution for Vere and the crown prince.

 

Dinner was brought to their rooms at Damianos’ request. After a full day of arriving in Arles, meeting Laurent, and discovering all manner of horrible and deadly things concerning the Regent of Vere, Crown Prince Auguste, and the fate of Ios, he did not think he was ready to face a royal banquet.

Nikandros had stayed with him, but Pallas had requested to eat with the Prince’s Guard; Damianos was more than happy to acquiesce, as it would allow them to get another image of Vere from those who were not in the nobility. It helped that Pallas could make friends with sharks, much less magicians.  

The food was rich and heavy, swimming in cream sauces and--though he did not say it aloud--magically good.

When they were finished with dinner and the nervous, beautiful servant who had plated their lovely dinner left them alone, Nikandros turned to Damianos with his most serious gaze. “I know what you’re thinking, and I _urge_ you: do not.”

Damianos tossed himself on the bed and gazed fondly at Nik. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You _know_ what I mean. Do not play these games with me.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“A magical palace and these crafty Veretians surround us?” Nikandros raised one eyebrow as he set his cloak aside. “I am sure the walls have eyes and ears. I have grown up with you Damianos and I know the type of person that will bring you to your knees.”

Damianos held out his hand and grinned as Nikandros sat on the edge of the bed. “Pray, don’t stop. Pull me apart Nik.”

Nikandros twisted his lips and began ticking off his fingers. “You are weak to those crafty, intelligent types who speak in circles around others and are determined beyond interference. It helps that he has a face like,” Nikandros’ throat bobbed attractively as he swallowed and tried to find the words, “a face like an angel. Like the figurehead on a ship.”

“You can read me like a book, Nik. And he is…alluring.”

“And he is a prince.” Nikandros’ voice was even softer now. “He shares your prestige and he is exotic in appearance and skill. I worry that we might be drawn into whatever politics he and his uncle are playing at and…only the gods know what they might do to each other’s allies.”

“You would ask me to make myself cold to him?” Damianos asked, nudging his knuckles against Nik’s cheek.

“All I ask is that you do not lose focus on our goal.” Nikandros said. “We must find a solution and go back to Ios before the ninety days are up.” Of that, they were in agreement. Damianos took the end of one of Nikandros’ braids and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger.

“We have time.”

Nikandros sighed as he laid down on the bed, his head only inches from Damianos’. He closed his eyes and Damianos knew it would be hard to judge his emotions without looking into the depths of his eyes. “I know. It is just…it can be hard to see you falling in love.”

Damianos nudged Nik’s cheek with his thumb and smiled. He wanted to tell his anxious friend that there was no need to fear.

His love for Ios, for Akielos was first and foremost in his mind.  

  



	7. The Palace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late again because I have another Thursday off (I highly recommend this setup) and I'm lazy as all hell ;) Hope you guys don't mind and that this chapter makes up for it!  
> In any case, Damen and Nik are actual puppies who like to curl up with each other and play fight and constantly lean up against each other for support. It's the cutest shit ever and I'm sure it flusters Laurent. Also I really wanted to show to Damen and Nik (especially Damen) what a decent and honorable man Laurent is and I hope I pulled it off well! Nothing will endear someone to Damen like rescuing Nik ;)  
> Enjoy!

**7\. The Palace**

Though the prince had been kind enough to prepare a suite of chambers with three separate beds, Damianos and Nikandros slept together as they always did in a new place. It brought Damianos comfort to have his friend within arms’ reach and something about the cool Veretian air must have agreed with the both of them. 

After such a long journey and an exhausting day, the first of their ninety days was spent in a deep, dreamless sleep.

When Damianos woke, his hands were tangled in Nikandros’ braids and the light of the mid-morning sun was filtering in through the room. Nik must have truly been weathered because he was a regular early riser and he barely stirred as Damianos slid out of the massive bed and went to find the closest place to relieve himself.

Pallas’ bed had not been slept in and Damianos fully intended to search him out once he was a little more refreshed.

At least Vere and Akielos were the same in that there were rooms devoted to large floor baths inside the suites of rooms.

Vere’s baths were not simple white marble; the bath in their quarters was carved of some massive slab of deep blue stone inlaid with gold like ripples. The bath was already full and steaming, towels placed within arm’s reach along with a royal ransom of oils and creams. Though the colorful stoppered bottles that lined the sides like multifaceted gems gave him pause. 

As Damianos slid into the hot water, he picked one up and it looked completely empty, light in his hand. 

He reached for the wax-sealed stopper and—

“You are meant to open it under the water Exalted One.”

Only the thought of waking up Nikandros kept Damianos from shouting in alarm. He merely thrashed in the water in surprise as Pallas looked on apologetically.

“ _ Pallas _ .”

“Forgive me Exalted One, I did not know how to proceed without startling you. But those bottles are filled with magic essence. If you open it under the water it will likely have some sort of effect.”

Damianos listened to him because he seemed so assured of himself. “How do you know about— _ ahhhh _ .” The effect was instantaneous; as soon as he pulled the stopper from the bottle, all of his muscles seemed to liquefy and he almost sank below the surface of the honeysuckle-scented water.

“Lazar and the other guards have been showing such things to me,” Pallas said with a blush, inferring that he had bathed with some of them, “since you and Nikandros slept so soundly yesterday. Many of them thought you dead from exhaustion or the effects of magic.”

“We’ve slept for a whole day?” Damianos asked with as much surprise as the magicked water would allow him.

“Without stirring. I thought it would be rude to wake you.”

“Oh gods…“

“I brought food.” Pallas offered by way of assuaging the guilt. It helped a little.

When Damianos emerged from the bath—his long, wet curls suspiciously free of tangles—Nikandros was also awake and nibbling carefully at the spread Pallas had brought them. Pallas assured them that most of the people in the palace woke well after sunrise so they would have time to chat at their leisure.

Damianos and Nikandros told him the basics of what they had seen and learned from the prince and Pallas nodded sagely.

It seems the prince’s guards were also in agreement that the Regent was not a man to be trusted. They had also tried to explain and show him some of the offensive magic guards were trained in.

“It’s like…a reserve inside of them that they can grow with practice. It fills back up over time after you use it but the bigger magic takes longer to recover from. And extending so much effort can kill a Veretian if they’re not careful.” 

“Laurent had better be damn powerful to bring Ios back up.” Nikandros said.

“Oh he is. He’s been one of the strongest since birth.” Pallas replied, almost in awe. “It was Laurent who was supposed to have kept the barrier around the city but…something must have happened. Maybe he avoided it somehow?”

Nikandros shot Damianos a glance and Damianos nodded softly. 

It did not seem like something Laurent would avoid. Not when he had looked so desperate and miserable over seeing his brother in that stasis. 

“We have to find a way to get the Crown Prince free of his fate.” Nikandros reiterated, as if he was trying to remind himself of everything they had learned in such a short timespan. “And eighty-nine days to do it.”

“Eighty eight.” Damianos corrected and saw Nik’s look of horror from his peripheral. “We were tired.”

“Perhaps we could start strategizing in the royal library.” Pallas offered. “I am told it is the largest and most comprehensive in all of Vere. There might be something we can use in one of their books.”

Nikandros shrugged. “I suppose it cannot hurt. Though…none of us can read Veretian.”

“That’s the spirit.” 

They could not in fact read Veretian, even with the magic of understanding the spoken language, and Laurent, looking as fine and fresh as reef water, found them hunched over papers attempting to solve a problem they did not even fully understand.

“The midday meal is going to be served now. You are more than welcome to eat it here if you are on the verge of a,” he looked at the blank pages in front of them and arched one eyebrow, “breakthrough.”

Damianos  _ was _ hungry, as men of his size and musculature often were, and he was more than happy for a break on his thankless task. “Pallas? Nikandros?”

“You’ll be wanting to brace yourselves.” Laurent said, his voice dry as red wine. “The fact that you did not make another appearance yesterday has only made your presence more mysterious and alluring. You may be facing a bit of a crowd.”

Crowds Damianos could handle.

However, he was not expecting that the lovely pets of Vere would be waiting for his arrival in a pack outside of the dining hall.  

They were beautiful, like reef fish, all bright colors and big eyes and thin, gauzy fabrics. Still, Damianos found something predatory in their smiles and he had his guard up, even as slender as they were.

“We’ve heard you’re the king.” One of them said, coming abreast of him. She was androgynous, her dark brown hair cut short and waist so slender Damianos could wrap his hands around it and have his fingers overlap.

“I am,” he said. 

A beauty of a man with impossibly full lips lightly took his hand and surveyed Damianos’ fingers as if he planned to shove them into himself. His smile was carnivorous. “And how does a king like to take his lovers?”

Those seemed to be the magic words and suddenly Damianos was flanked by them on all sides, bombarded by questions, hands grazing him by the slightest margins.

“Have you had a magical lover?’

“I can make my throat tighter than any virgin.”

“Would you like me to milk you drier than you’ve ever been before?”

“I bet fucking you would be like taking a bull’s cock.”

That particular compliment he did not particularly relish and he fixed the pets with a distinctly cool gaze. It hardly deterred them in any case. 

“ _ Please _ .”

Nikandros had not fared any better.

One of the pets had his hands up Nikandros’ hem, another rubbing hands all over his chest. He looked wildly uncomfortable but did not use his full strength to try and brush their attentions aside. He was trying to be gentle with their slender wrists and bejeweled hands and Damianos felt anger building in his chest.

He did not care at all for the sight of Nik being molested.

It was clear Prince Laurent did not either.

Before Damianos could move, Laurent cut through the pretty pets in two easy strides. He grabbed their wrists without hesitation and yanked them away from Nikandros. The both of them yelped in pain but Laurent merely smiled and it was like chips of ice.

“Don’t be rude to our guests.”

“We’re not being rude, Your Highness.” One of them tried to cajole the prince with fluttering lashes and wide eyes. “Men pay a lot of money for the pleasure of our touch. We are simply being good hosts.”

“As if the dear friend of a king would relish your cheap attentions. Leave him alone or I’ll burn your hair off.”

The threat seemed to have the intended effect and all those pretty men and beautiful women with long tresses clutched them tight in horror. Bejeweled hands fell away from Damianos as well and the pets looked as though they wanted to spit poison at their own prince. 

He was more powerful though and most of the pets slunk away without having gotten a taste of their exotic guests. The only one brave enough to stay and watch was a young man whose hair already looked like it was made of flame.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Nikandros said, smoothing his clothes.

“You need not thank me.” Laurent said dismissively. “As if I’d allow assault in my court. Next time just snap their fucking fingers.”

“I would not, but thank you for giving me permission.”

Laurent jolted as Damianos patted him twice on the back of the neck, his soft, golden hair tickling Damianos’ fingers. “Nikandros is too polite for that.” Too gentle for his own good. “Is everyone to be this…physical?”

“Just the pets.” Laurent said, shifting away from Damianos as if to prove his point. “And I’m sure you can find the magic in brute strength. Come on then, before you find yourself married in the stairwells.”

A hush rattled through the massive, ornate dining hall like to sound of wind falling abruptly from sails. Though Damianos longed to look around, he kept his eyes firmly fixed in front of him where the Regent was seated in the place of honor. 

Damianos did not allow himself to look around until he was seated between Laurent and Nikandros at the head table. 

“Watch the wine.” Laurent cautioned as Damianos reached for his glass. “Magic in the wine as well and it might knock you soft southerners on your decidedly muscular asses.”

He’d need it.

Everyone was looking their way except that lovely redhead pet and his patron—a plain brown partridge of a man—who was reluctantly allowing the young man to lounge across his lap. The captain of the guard was also seated at the head of the table and was glaring daggers at Damianos.

Almost hidden from view on the other side of the Regent, was a slim boy of about twelve who might have been an angelic beauty had he not looked so gaunt and ill. Damianos almost wanted to have him come over so that he and his group could feed the slip of a thing something drenched in butter. Laurent was also watching, his blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“Who is that boy?” Nikandros asked.  

“Ah.” A look of dark distaste passed over Laurent’s lovely face. “It is…something best discussed after dinner.” Nikandros nodded and silently switched his and Laurent’s wine glasses. “Thank you.”

He barely touched the sweet wine in any case; he mostly picked at the elaborate, seemingly endless spread of food that the servants carried from the kitchens. Just as with breakfast, the food was delicious and heavy and Damianos made a note to himself to find the sparring grounds before he fell fallow.

“Why did you switch his wine Nik?” Damianos whispered.

“It was already poured.” Nikandros hissed back. “What if it was poisoned?”

“Then  _ you _ would be poisoned,” Damianos said, tugging on one of Nik’s braids. “And I would have the added difficulty of burning this palace to the ground after the fact.”

“Resistance, remember?”

Damianos shook his head in disbelief and noticed that Laurent was massaging his temples. “Thank the gods for that.”

Speaking of resistance and poison, it seemed that the prince had a remarkably low tolerance for alcohol.

He staggered the moment he stood from the table and Damianos gripped him softly by the elbow. 

“Your Highness, should we escort you back?” 

Nikandros stood as well and was the only one who had the manners enough to incline his head to the Veretian nobility before they left with the prince.

Laurent’s nose began to bleed the moment they returned to his rooms and Damianos realized that he must have been fending off small attacks during the entirety of dinner. “You will scare my countrymen if there is blood on your clothes.” He said weakly as Damianos used part of his chiton to wipe away the blood, fury clear on his expression. 

“We are perfectly capable of buying new clothes.”

“Who was that boy?” Nikandros asked when the bleeding stopped. 

Laurent rubbed at his temples again. “The same as always: some child born with a huge well of magic that my uncle…sucks out for himself. The least heinous thing he orders of them, poor pets.” 

“Oh  _ gods _ .” Nikandros’ dark face went white as he realized, though it took Damianos a few more minutes to come to the same conclusion, remembering that pets presented themselves as magical whores. “The man is a  _ monster _ .” Damianos was inclined to agreed, the rush of fury in his chest was almost exhilarating.

“It is a relief we share the same opinions on my uncle’s…habits.”

Damianos wondered who on earth would not. “He can attack you like this because he…takes the magic from that boy?” Laurent nodded slowly and Damianos was once again overcome by just how powerful the prince of Vere was.

Nik looked as though he was moments away from murder himself.

If they could not figure out how to rescue the Crown Prince, at least Damianos would help Nikandros dump the Regent’s body into one of those whirlpools just past the fog of Delpha. 

 

Laurent brought in Veretian clothes for them the very next night. “It reflects poorly on us if we do not clothe you properly. Here.” 

“Are there not servants that can bring us these?” Nikandros asked as he took them. “It…seems unusual that a prince should wait on us.”

“You’re welcome.” Laurent responded, deadpan.

“Are the servants too terrified of us to come to our chambers?” Damianos asked.   

Laurent’s lips quirked up before he could help himself. “Something like that. I would also like to avoid anyone losing their minds and spreading themselves wide in the name of hospitality.” He stepped back the moment Damianos accepted the stack of clothes, as if to make abundantly clear he was not tempted in the least. 

“Would you like to come in?” Damianos asked. “We may need the hands of a magician to teach us these laces.”

“Astonishing that Akielon sailors are incapable of tying knots.” 

“You might also assume that we simply enjoy the pleasure of your company.” Nikandros leaned against Damianos’ back, his braids spilling over Damianos’ forearm. Laurent blinked once at him, expressionless, before slipping past them wordlessly. Nikandros raised his eyebrows in surprise, as if he had not expected his invitation to work.

Damianos shrugged. “Must have said the magic words.” He felt a rush of glee as Nik dissolved into quiet laughter. 

Laurent moved carefully in their quarters, as if Damianos and Nikandros’ presence alone had made him an unwelcome stranger in the suite of rooms that belonged to him in the first place. 

“Do you mind?” Nikandros asked Laurent as he reached for the pin at his shoulder.

Laurent shrugged.

His tune changed a little as Damianos and Nikandros both dropped their chitons without an ounce of shame, bare beneath their hems. “Oh.  _ Oh _ .” Damianos smiled as Laurent suddenly became very interested in the small snake carving Damianos had left on the table by his bed. 

His pale ears were positively scarlet. 

Laurent had given them both tight, tailored pants, a loose white undershirt, and a fitted outer jacket that was heavy, warm, and beautifully embroidered in gold thread. Damianos was always concerned with fitted clothing as it rarely fastened without tearing at the seams, but this Veretian clothing was another matter entirely. The fabric fitted to him beautiful and soft, and he was able to move his limbs without hearing the sound of ripping.

Though he was more covered than he had ever been in his life, he felt as free as if he had been wearing nothing at all.

“It…suits you.” Laurent admitted when he felt comfortable enough to turn around and Damianos was forced to agree. Nik looked lithe as panther in his black jacket and there was something about Laurent in these clothes that brought attention to the length of his neck and the elegant curve of his cheekbone.

Yes, Damianos could see the beauty in these clothes. 

“Are we able to pass as Veretians then?” Damianos asked.

“Hardly. But at least now no one will be able to slide hands up your skirts. Here, let me…” Laurent began to lace the ties at Damianos’ wrists with quick, deft fingers and Damianos felt a rush of fondness for the prince. It was clear that the situation with the pets had bothered him and he was working hard to make amends. 

“Thank you.” He said again with just as much feeling as the first time he said it. Laurent merely inclined his head by way of acknowledging that he had heard. 

When he helped Nikandros with his laces, Nikandros began to make small talk, beginning with a question that had haunted Damianos without him even realizing it.

“Your Highness, permit me to ask a question about Vere.”

Laurent glanced to Damianos. “Does he always ask permission like this?”

“Bold of you to assume he asks.” Damianos replied with a grin that felt like it would split him. Laurent made an impatient noise as Nik moved to avoid Damianos tugging on the ends of his braids. 

“ _ Anyways _ ,” Nikandros refused to look at Damianos for his annoyance, “as you know, we are men who have grown up near the seaside. Having walked through your city and eaten at your table I…I have seen no evidence of your navy or your fishing industries.”

Laurent’s hands stopped moving on the laces. 

“It is unusual.” Damianos agreed, “for a city to be so close to the ocean and to have no boats near the shore. Is it because the tides are so violent?”

“Not exactly.” Laurent tied the laces neatly at Nikandros’ wrists. “Due to our isolation, sailing, swimming, and sometimes even going to the beaches unchaperoned are strictly forbidden. To be completely frank, the day you came to our shores was the first time I have ever seen a seafaring vessel.”

Such a thing was unimaginable to Damianos. 

The sea was such an integral part of his life, even now he sorely missed the sound of the tide outside of his window. “Why is it forbidden?”

Laurent shrugged but there was an edge to it. “It has always been forbidden to leave our shores. If a Veretian is found to have violated those rules, my uncle and the councilors siphon off the perpetrators’ magic. The experience is often fatal.”

Damianos knew that it was not the point of this cautionary tale but he was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to bring Laurent to the beach and take him sailing. He felt the prince would enjoy the rule-breaking aspect along with the delicious feeling of freedom that accompanied sailing. 

Nikandros looked over at him as if he could feel Damianos’ devious thoughts from across the room. 

 


	8. The Arrangement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you might be thinking to yourself: oh Steele! We’re halfway through this fic! And you’d be wrong! Haha because there’s no way it’s only going to be 15 chapters. Throw rocks at me; I only have my lack of self control to blame haha!  
> It wouldn't be a Captive Prince fic of mine if there wasn't some bed-sharing going on haha! And this time Laurent gave in quick. I can imagine nothing worse (for myself) than being unable to sleep and so I've made it this time around that Laurent is maybe not in top thinking shape because he hasn't slept well in months. Maybe even YEARS. Nightmarish.  
> In other news, it's around this chapter where you can really see that I've lost control of the plot in favor of just having banter/flirting between Nik, Damen and Laurent haha!  
> Enjoy!

**8\. The Arrangement**

It came about quite naturally, their small rebellions.

In their first week in the palace, Damianos and Nikandros were content to be honored guests: to explore the vast castle grounds, to become familiar with some of the faces of the nobility, and to attempt to untangle the mess of a problem they had been presented with. But they were sailors, explorers by nature and were not used to being cooped up for so long.

However, when Pallas tried to leave the palace grounds one sunny afternoon, Damianos felt a shiver of dread as Pallas told him he had been turned away at the palace gates. The same treatment was visited upon Damianos and Nikandros when they tried, the guards stuttering that it was for the ‘safety of the Veretian public’.

It was just before dinner and Damianos circled their rooms like a shark in a fury while Laurent listened to Damianos and Nikandros air their grievances. He came to the library quite often to read or to watch Nik and Damianos toss about ideas for a shield or a wall for Vere, knocking down some of their more ridiculous plans with brutal bluntness.

However, today he was keeping his savagery to a minimum, content to sit quietly off to the side. Apparently unable to sit in a chair like a normal human being, Laurent had draped his legs over the arm of the chair and seemed to be leisurely flipping through a book.

“Why are they not allowing us to leave?” Damianos asked.

“You are unpredictable. My uncle cannot have you gallivanting across the city unobserved and uncontrolled. Who knows what kind of havoc you would wreak?” Laurent looked up at Damianos and his mouth quirked up on one side. “You could always just toss the guards over your shoulders. Or are your arms just for show?”

Nikandros coughed and Damianos shot him a glare.

“What is our stance on kidnapping guards, Nikandros?”

“Please gods no.”

“Why do you want to leave so badly?” Laurent asked and Damianos detected tension under the fine weave of his garments. His anger abated a little.

“We are not _leaving_ you.” He amended and Nikandros pinched the bridge of his nose in disbelief. “We want to check on the status of our ship. And I do want to see the city…” It was the understatement of the century. Damianos remembered the mother-of-pearl streets and the magical artisans and he felt the itch to explore.

“We are also exceedingly fond of going to places that are forbidden to us.” Nikandros sighed.

The aforementioned ‘we’ was ninety percent Damianos.

“My uncle will not tamper with your ship.” Laurent said, placing his book to the side. “In fact, it is in his best interest that you leave as soon as possible. Aside from the fact that no one will go near the beach.”

“Thank the gods,” Nikandros sighed in relief.

Laurent looked at him and it was filled with ornery delight; Damianos got the distinct feeling that Laurent was cultivating a similar love of frustrating Nikandros’ cautious and sensible nature. “What is it like? Sailing, I mean. You both seem to speak of it as other men speak of lovers.”

“It is probably the closest we have to magic.” Nikandros said and his face did take on a warm suffusion of joy. “It is like flying through the clearest air you’ve ever breathed. We learn to sail from the time we can walk.”

“If only you could see Ios or the scented ports of Bazal in Patras.” Damianos said, almost reminiscing. They had not been gone long, but his missing of the ports and cities was overwhelming. “For all of your apparent love of bright colors and details.”

Laurent’s mouth quirked up before he could help it. “As children, Veretians are told of it in whispers though--depending on the storyteller--it sounds like a realm of faeries or the greatest of nightmares. I doubt much of it rings true.”

Damianos did not quite know how to begin describing his city but it did take his mind off of not being able to leave the palace of Arles.

He and Nik took turns, telling of the white buildings of their city, painted in bold splashes of color and shaded by awnings of striped silk. Planning and fury forgotten, they spoke of their favorite foods and favorite beaches and caves, the spots where they watched the stars or buried boxes of childhood treasures in the sand. Laurent watched them, scarcely blinking as Damianos and Nikandros exchanged a seemingly endless stream of memories, his eyes shining for the love of stories.

“Your shores sound beautiful.” Laurent said, his voice almost dreamlike, as if he was imagining Akielos at that very moment.

“You remind me of the shores, Your Highness.” Nikandros said casually and then flushed when Laurent did. “N-No, I--I mean, it’s that you’re--” Damianos watched him struggle, too amused to offer him any sort of help, “it is your _eyes_.”

Damianos did have to agree on that observation. “You do have eyes like a lagoon.”

Laurent curled some of his hair behind his ear, the ear still very pink. “I shall…have to take your word for it.”

“Would that we could show you.” Damianos said. He would love to show Laurent those private beaches, his villa covered in wisteria, the lagoons that matched Laurent’s wide eyes. “If we ever gain access our ship again.”

“Unlikely with this issue plaguing us.” Nikandros said, his blush calmed and tongue untwisted. “Are you sure your brother could not just…bottle the spell and unleash it when an intruder comes close? Like the spells for the bath?”

“Those are simple spells, easily spared.” Laurent said, a little sad as if he had considered something similar. “Keeping them potent until use requires almost no energy. But keeping something of that magnitude bottled up would almost certainly kill the magician.”

“I am having a difficult time keeping track of all these many rules of magic.” Nikandros grumbled.

Laurent smiled at him. “Please feel free to ask me if you would like a long and confusing explanation.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”  

Damianos was about to begin plotting how they could sneak from the palace to the beach but a knock came at the library and the captain of the guard--Jord--entered to let them know that dinner was to be served in half an hour.

Damianos was shocked and it seemed Nik and Laurent were feeling the same surprise. They had talked so long and so agreeably that several hours had passed.

He almost wanted to stay and have dinner brought to the library so that they could continue but he thought it would be better manners to make an appearance.

However, by the end of the evening, he almost wished he had insisted on a private dinner.

Laurent seemed to have a headache all throughout dinner, barely eating for all he massaged his head and Damianos and Nikandros excused themselves from the meal as he used Nikandros’ shoulder to steady himself on the way out of the banquet hall.

There were shimmers of gold that blinked around Laurent as they reached him in the darkened halls and Damianos realized he was seeing Laurent’s glittering defenses. Damianos lost his ability to think for a moment.

“Let us escort you to--” Damianos almost said ‘somewhere safe’ until he remembered there was probably no safe spot for the prince, “your rooms.”

“You…Akielons are not…subtle.” It was not ‘no’.

“You can hardly make such broad statements when you have only been acquainted with the three of us.” Nikandros said quickly and then caught himself over how cutting the retort had been. Damianos and Laurent both laughed at his embarrassed expression.

Prince Laurent looked exhausted even after the laughter and Damianos took his pale face quite naturally in his hands, tilting it as if looking for physical injuries. He knew that there wouldn’t be, but it still put him at ease.

Laurent blinked, unreadable. “You…you are also very…physical.”

Damianos smiled wide and Laurent glanced at his cheek. “Forgive me. It is a force of habit.”

“It is not…unbearable.” Laurent said as Damianos began to slip his hands away.

“His touch is soothing.” Nikandros agreed coming up behind Laurent. Damianos grinned at him as well; he was pleased his _agapetós_ was on the receiving end of such soft handling. Nikandros touched his dark fingertips to Laurent’s temple and Laurent leaned into it with a gasp of relief and surprise. “It is this place that ails you. Correct?”

“How…astute of you.”

“Is it constant?” Nikandros asked.

“Nearly so. I set up guards but…my attention cannot be solely fixed on defense of my own mind.” His eyes closed and there was something like a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “Astonishing…it does ease the pressure to…have you touch me.”

Nikandros shot Damianos a pointed look, clearly realizing that he was relishing the idea of touching the gorgeous prince.

“Is that an invitation?” Blue eyes snapped back open and Damianos smiled. “Or a request?”

“An observation.”

He slipped through Damianos’ fingers like silk, though the curve of his cheek pressed against Nikandros’ palm. “Your Highness…if there is any way to alleviate this stress, please allow us to help you.” Nikandros furrowed his brow as Laurent stepped away from him as well.

“Rest assured, I will be perfectly capable of rescuing Ios.”

“We cannot simply be concerned for you?” Damianos asked and Laurent looked at him as if he did not believe him for one moment. Damianos was unable to help himself and laughed a little. “We’ve been charmed by your temperament.”

“Well at least you have a sense of humor to pair with your distinct lack of personal boundaries.” Laurent curled his hair behind his ear. “In any case, I shall consider your generous offer.”

He did more than just consider.

That evening at dinner, a magical sex show--of such an obscene display that Nikandros and Pallas could scarcely look up--was performed in the center of the dining hall after the food had been taken away. Damianos was torn between shock and inability to look away, astonished that people could be so open with their sex lives…and their orifices.

Prince Laurent watched with something even less heartfelt than utter boredom.  

Damianos almost preferred watching his lack of reaction to the scintillating show and so he was the first to notice when Laurent began to close his eyes and massage his temples. The next  move was instinctual.

Slowly, so as not to draw attention to himself, Damianos reached his hand over and touched his fingers to Laurent’s head.

The effect was instantaneous.

Laurent exhaled audibly, his head leaning into Damianos’ fingertips, his shoulders slumping in relaxation. Nikandros looked over, noticing as Laurent’s long eyelashes fluttered against his cheek.

Someone was hurting him.

It did not take long for Damianos to notice that the Regent was not watching the ‘entertainment’ or the exhausted beauty of a boy next to him. He was looking in their direction without blinking, a lazy crocodilian gaze that was at once uncaring and filled with malice.

Damianos removed his fingers only for a split second--in that moment he winced a bit--before placing his entire palm flat against the side of Laurent’s face. He relaxed again and Nikandros tightened his hand around the silver handle of his serrated dinner knife. The Regent certainly was brazen to attack his nephew at dinner.

But Damianos and Nikandros were stubborn and when Damianos took a moment to rest his hand, Nikandros took up the task without question. And they did not acknowledge the exchange when the Veretian dinner came to a close.

Laurent also did not acknowledge their defense, but it was clear that he appreciated the gesture when he knocked at their door in the middle of the night.

“Laurent.” Damianos tried not to look as shocked as he felt.

“Damianos.” Laurent gave something like the beginnings of a smile. “Might I come in?” He was already moving before Damianos nodded and Nikandros set down his half-empty wine glass. “Hello Nikandros.”

“Your Highness. How pleasant to see you again.” Though he was more careful in Vere, he did grace Laurent with a smile that made Laurent falter a little.

“Likewise. Where is your other companion? The sweet one.” Laurent asked. He glanced around, hesitant in his own damn palace and Damianos could hardly blame him after all he had learned of Vere.

“Nikandros is just there.” Damianos teased and relished Laurent’s clear look of annoyance. “You do not find me sweet?”

“Pallas is with your guard, Your Highness.” Nikandros sighed.

“Then they will not let him go anytime soon.” Laurent said. “I imagine one of them has already slipped their claws into him.” Damianos remembered the grin of that fire magician and prayed that Pallas would not soon be the star of the post-supper entertainment. “So there is no danger of being disturbed.”

“Disturbed doing what?” Nikandros asked, putting down his wine glass. He was giving Laurent that look he gave Damianos when he knew Damianos was scheming.

Laurent glanced back at the door in one smooth sweep of the eyes. His cheeks and the tops of his ears were flushed and he held himself tight as if he was afraid of being seen or heard. But when he spoke his voice was calm and assured. “I cannot place blame for sure, but the assault on my mind has become more frequent and even plagues me at night when my guard is down. I believe men have been hired to barrage me at all hours in hopes that I…misstep somehow. However, it seems that your resistance is shared whenever you put hands on me.” He did not glance down as another person might when shy; Prince Laurent stared at Damianos without blinking, almost challenging.

“You…wish for us to touch you during the night?” Damianos asked, his throat suddenly dry.

“ _Damen_.” Nikandros said.

“Or you, Nikandros.” Laurent amended quickly, turning his oceanic gaze to Nik.

“M-me?”

“Why not?” Damianos asked, smiling at that thought as well. “You are very calming. As is your touch.” Laurent blinked at that and Nik flushed red to match the prince’s ears.

“I have no…particular preference. But if you do not find yourselves opposed to the thought. I, of course, would be discreet,” he promised, as if he was not the coolest headed man Damianos had ever met, “making sure no one knows of this arrangement and leaving well before the rest of the castle is roused. It helps that the servants are too nervous to come to your quarters while you remain inside.”

“I am more than pleased to help you in this situation.” Damianos said, trying not to sound too excited. His heart palpitated at the thought of being able to touch Laurent’s temple again.

“How surprising.” Nikandros said, deadpan and yet somehow dripping with sarcasm.

“Many would relish the chance to feel our touch, Nikandros.” Damianos argued.

“I would relish the chance to _sleep_.” Laurent amended, if possible even redder than before.

Damianos looked back to Nikandros, wishing that his arm was longer so that he could rub his knuckles across Nik’s cheek. It was only polite to allow Laurent this, since the prince had been such a generous host. Or at least, that was his rationale.

They must have been silent for too long because Laurent spoke again. “You need not take turns if you find the idea distasteful.” Nikandros looked a little shocked at that; and how could he not be? Nikandros was not carved from ice--he was gentler than Damianos--and he had also felt the way Laurent had leaned into his touch. “I would assume even the lightest touch would alleviate the pain so I would not disturb you Nikandros.”

“Ah, about that.” Damianos began and saw Nik pinch the bridge of his nose.

Laurent was quick.

He had clearly seen two pristine beds and Damianos was fairly sure that even blind men could see how close he and Nik were. His tone was disbelief, bordering on laughter. “You…have been sharing a bed? Like children do?”     

“Yes.” Nikandros said, unperturbed. “It is comforting to have a dear…friend close in an unfamiliar place.” Laurent fixed him with a glance that made him flush again.

“Is it so surprising?” Damianos asked.

“My only surprise is that the bed does not collapse under your combined weight.” Laurent replied, accepting their sleeping arrangement without any further question. He took a breath as if to steady himself and took another step closer to Nikandros. “I understand if you are uncomfortable with this.”

“Are you…are you being compelled?” Nikandros asked.

Laurent laughed. “Gods, no. This madness is my own.”

Nikandros blinked once and then nodded. His voice was very soft. “You are welcome to stay with us, Your Highness. I can only hope the dimensions of the mattress can accommodate another.”  

“We are all intelligent men.” Laurent said and it occurred to Damianos that he must have truly been desperate to sleep unmolested. “I’m sure we can figure out the logistics of it.” Damianos was already a few thoughts ahead.

Currently the best option to him seemed to be having Laurent sleeping between Damianos and Nikandros so that Damianos could protect Laurent’s temple with one hand and hold the tips of Nik’s braids with his other hand.

“I have one other request.” Laurent said, as Nikandros began to move through the room again, pulling at the laces near his neck. His color was high and Damianos simply waited for him to find the words. “I have taken into account all of the possible details of this arrangement and believe the only other issue I anticipated was--.”

At that moment, Nik managed to shed his jacket and undershirt, revealing the smooth brown muscles of his back. It was a back that could strike a god dumb and Damianos felt that urge to softly sink his teeth into Nik’s shoulder.

Laurent blinked once and cleared his throat as he turned his gaze back to Damianos.

“I suspect, after seeing you change clothes, that Akielons sleep in the nude?”

“How very astute of you.” Damianos responded.

“Yes. Generally we do.” Nikandros said.

“It is warm in Akielos.”

“You’ll have noticed then that Vere is much colder. I would request that you wear clothing--” Damianos twisted his lips a little at his elaborate jacket and how uncomfortable it would be to sleep in, “pants, at least, to bed.”

“Of course.” Nikandros said quickly before Damianos could interject. Damianos grinned at him; as if he would refuse Laurent’s sincere request. And Laurent, on his part, looked so relieved he might have melted into the floor. “We will not doing anything to cause you discomfort.”

And Veretian sleeping clothes were actually quite gauzy and comfortable, Damianos was pleased to note as Prince Laurent managed to find them both a pair in one of the massive chest of drawers. The pants were all the same: baggy, tightening at the knee, and Damianos made a note not to stand in front of a lit candle, lest Laurent see the entire outline of him through his pants. Damianos and Nik went bare chested and Laurent wore a long shirt, similar to the one he had worn that morning on the beach; those guards must have chased him from his bed.

Damianos and Nikandros were at ease as they got into bed and Laurent watched them warily, sliding into bed between Damianos and Nik only after the candles were blown out. Laurent’s skin was luminous even in the dark and he seemed to be doing his absolute best to keep from touching any part of them, save Damianos’ arm. He sighed in relief the moment his head touched Damianos’ skin.

“Does it feel better, Your Highness?” Nikandros asked, his voice soft under the cover of darkness. He whispered like he did as a child when they were meant to be asleep hours ago.

“Yes.” Laurent whispered back. “Much better. Thank you. And you need not be so formal when we are sharing a bed.”

“It would be…disrespectful to be so familiar with royalty.” Nikandros sounded flustered and Damianos rubbed one of his braids. It was a bit late to plead being too familiar when the front of Nik’s body was only a hairsbreadth from Laurent’s back.

“It has hardly stopped you before.” Damianos laughed softly as Nik rapped him on the arm with his knuckles.   

“You called him ‘Damen’ earlier.” Laurent said.

“It…is my nickname for him in private.” Nikandros said. Damianos could feel his blush from across the sheets.

“Though he slips up when emotions run high.” Damianos said, overjoyed that he had heard the treasured pet name not only from Nikandros but from Prince Laurent. “And we have been friends for long enough for him to be familiar with me. Since before I was chosen to be king.”

“I see. And what do you call him in return?”

Damianos flexed his fingers so that they brushed against Nikandros’ forehead. So many things he called his _agapetós_ but… “Nik. Mostly I call him Nik.”

  



	9. The Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we as a fandom can collectively agree that more Regent content is never necessary nor wanted, BUT I do like having him around for the sole purpose of having Damen terrify the ever-loving hell out of him. Like making the human equivalent of a tank angry.  
> To make up for it, I have included a very sexually charged wrestling scene that has doubtlessly replayed over and over in Laurent's mind and a lot of cute banter between Damen and Laurent. Don't worry! Nik will get his chance to talk alone with Laurent soon ;) They won't leave him out.  
> Enjoy the new chapter and thank you all for the love!

**9\. The Conversations**

Two beautiful things helped break the monotony of the palace of Arles, keeping Damianos at least from flipping the large trestle tables at dinner.

The first was that Laurent of Vere and Nikandros curved the same while sleeping. 

Damianos woke up in the mornings to see both Nik and Laurent youthful and untroubled in the throes of sleep. They curled up tight as cats—Nik because he was used to Damianos’ massive frame taking up the better part of the mattress—and Laurent’s head was limp on Damianos’ arm. Though Nik had good enough manners even in sleep to keep from pressing against the prince, his head had rebelled and was resting in the spot where Laurent’s neck met his shoulders.

Damianos’ hands were filled with a mix of gold silk and twisting braids; he rubbed them both softly in his hand, the feeling like rope and seawater running through his fingers. 

And Laurent certainly looked refreshed after a few days of sleeping protected next to Damianos and Nikandros. His wit grew as his insomnia faded, his smile taking on that wicked feline sweetness as his uncle rubbed his own temples during dinner.

It seemed he liked having his power at full and his mind untroubled, because he spent more time in their presence and his casual touches grew more frequent. 

Nik was the one who noticed that Laurent relaxed even more when he softly rubbed at the base of Laurent’s skull.

He only allowed it of Nik, leaning into the touch like a cat or a tame viper. 

It was beautiful.

The second beautiful thing was the discovery of the training grounds. 

It was Pallas, sweet, pretty Pallas, who introduced them to the training grounds in Arles: long stretches of packed earth, clear of grass where soldiers could practice with weaponry and magic. Damianos was tired of walking the palace in search of answers that eluded him, watching the days slip away until they were nearly two weeks into their stay in Arles. He wanted to sail, and if that was impossible or forbidden then he wanted to fight someone.

There were huge craters in the earth when they first came down the winding stair and the soldiers stopped what they were doing when they saw the Akielons approach. 

Lazar, that green-eyed guard, lounged in the grass with blue fire racing along his knuckles in quick bursts. Damianos was suddenly overcome by the desire to see the Veretians fight with blasts of fire and bolts of lightning. 

Surely that was where the craters came from. 

No challenger approached them so Damianos turned to Nikandros. “Shall we give them a show?”

“Why not?” Nikandros smiled as he shed his shirt and jacket. Lazar’s fire blazed violet between his knuckles as he clenched his fingers tight.

The practice swords that Jord gave them were unlike any Damianos had seen before: they looked carved from Patran glass or solid crystal and Damianos refused his almost immediately.

“They are enchanted to keep from harming your opponent.” Jord explained as Nikandros also refused.

“Where on earth is the fun in that?” Nik asked, deadpan, much to Jord’s alarm.

A wrestling match would do them both good and Damianos could show the Veretians how Akielons chose to spar. He could tell Nikandros was resisting the urge to kick off his boots and remove his pants so that they could grapple properly but it might have been indecent in the present company. More the pity for them.

Damianos was fairly sure he heard Lazar praise the gods as he and Nikandros fell against each other, hands scrabbling for purchase. Nik felt as immovable as a newly hewn mast, the dark muscles of his shoulders holding Damianos at bay. He had to dig himself into the sand and re-evaluate his strategy.

The leg work came next, Damianos shifting his weight expertly so that he could slide his foot behind Nik’s left heel. When Nikandros tried to move his legs as well, he stumbled over Damianos’ foot and the two of them crashed to the sands. Damianos was fairly sure he heard Lazar gasp like a maiden about to faint away.

Damianos felt sand on his back and grinned; he liked when Nik got him on his back because then he could figure out how to maneuver his way back on top. He slid himself up with his heels before Nik could get a good grip on him.

Nik’s dark skin was slick from sweat so Damianos slid across him easily. He tried to clutch Nikandros in a hold across the shoulders but Nik slid out just as quickly. He grasped Damianos’ forearm, but Damianos gripped him around the middle and took hold of his elbow. 

Their legs became as tangled as vines and Damianos dug his toes into the sand, heedless over the state of his Veretian trousers. 

He was fairly sure he heard shouts of approval over the sound of his labored breath and pounding heartbeat. Nikandros’ fingers tried to dig into Damianos’ arm but Damianos had him. He gripped his own wrist, shackling Nik into place, and sighed in relief against Nik’s neck. 

Sweat dripped off of him onto Nik’s skin. “ _ Submit _ .” Nik strained against him, trying to find weakness, and Damianos laughed softly in delight. Of course Nikandros would never make things easy on him, but he wouldn’t relent. “Submit.” 

He gently bit Nik’s salt-sweet shoulder and Nik slumped in his arms. “I submit to you.” 

There were cheers at the pronouncement of a victor. When Damianos pulled Nik up from the dirt, wiping his back clean as he did, he felt their audience’s gaze acutely. Only two did not look on in shock.

Lazar looked as though he was filled with flame, his cheeks flushed and pants cramped. Damianos thought that if guileless Pallas was not careful, he was going to the ride of his life from this man.

And it seemed at some point during their sparring, Laurent had come out to see what everyone was gawking at.

He too was staring at Damianos and Nikandros, his hand clenched softly on the marble balustrade. He was so unmoving, Damianos wondered for a moment if the prince had died on the spot and was standing in rigor mortis. But no, he was truly alive, breathing, his eyes darting from the two of them. 

Damianos bumped Nik and the both of them smiled up at Laurent in tandem.

His ears turned red against his blonde hair.

 

The Regent of Vere must have realized that his nephew was not declining in health but in fact growing stronger in the recent days. Perhaps, he had come to the conclusion that the ‘barbaric’ Akielon visitors were not having their way with Laurent--unless having his hair and forehead stroked was barbaric by Veretian standards--and sought to make amends.

Damianos was combing oils into his hair when the captain of the guard knocked at his door.

His smile was almost a grimace, he clearly had so much distaste for Damianos. “Akielon king, Damianos, the Regent of Vere summons you to his quarters.” 

Damianos glanced away and continued to comb his hair. “A king is never summoned. He is only invited and will attend if he sees fit. Please exit my room immediately until I can consider the regent’s request.”

The captain all but choked on any response he might have had and Damianos wanted to laugh so badly. He wished Laurent and Nikandros were nearby to enjoy him being an absolute ass to the captain; surely Nik would cough to hide his laughter while Laurent would make some other cutting remark with the sweetest of smiles.

Instead, Damianos finished combing out his hair and braided it in one long plait down his back before he decided to respond.

The captain of the guard was waiting just outside the door and something blackened and burned lying at his feet. Damianos was sure that, if he was not immune, his body would be in a similar state.

“I have decided to accept the Regent’s invitation to speak with me. You may show me the way now.” 

Perhaps for fear of having Damianos insult him further, the captain remained quiet on their walk to what looked to be the largest set of rooms in the castle, usually reserved for the king, he imagined.

Damianos was led into a stuffy, elaborate study, the walls packed with books like a smaller version of the library he had just left. Damianos felt the hair on his arms raise up as he stepped inside, his hair feeling the crackle of the magic even as it passed over him uselessly. 

The Regent of Vere smiled beneath his mustache and beard.

Damianos smiled and it bit with the acid of severe dislike. The young boy who looked drained of all life was nowhere to be seen and Damianos thought it was a good thing; he’d not want the child to watch him bash the man’s head against the stone walls. 

“Damianos, Exalted One, King of Akielos. Please sit.”

Damianos felt the weight, the heft of the chair when he sat down and he considered how nice it would feel to swing the heavy piece of furniture into the man’s head. Right into his temple, the same spot where he tortured his nephew. 

“Why have you invited me here?” Damianos asked, discarding any niceties. The Regent did not deserve them.

He seemed not to mind and even smiled as he poured himself some wine. “We Veretians consider ourselves to be blunt but I see this may be an aspect our cultures share.” Damianos accepted the proffered wine glass but did not even pretend to sip it. “I understand that you and your companion--Nikandros, was it?--have been spending quite a bit of time in our royal library.” When Damianos inclined his head, mutely expressing that anyone with eyes could take note of such a thing, the Regent continued on undeterred. “I know my nephew spends a fair amount of time inside, but as a royal guest, I should have you know that I keep some of our most valuable tomes in my quarters for safekeeping.”

“We have.”

The Regent gazed at him with those ice-blue eyes and Damianos thought that he might have been a handsome man if he were not such a monster. “I’ll get to the point. I have neglected my welcome to you and your men, leaving it in hopes that my nephew might assist you. But I am given to curiosity: no one simply stumbles upon Vere. You must have had a reason for coming.

Damianos regarded him carefully.

Though it was not a direct question he was carefully maneuvering the conversation so that Damianos would reveal the desperation that had brought them to Ios. He was not entirely comfortable letting this man know how dire the situation was. It might be used against him.

He chose his words very carefully. “We came here for a matter that concerns my home and may only be fixed through the usage of magic. A  _ lot  _ of magic. It was a gamble but as you can see, it has paid off.”

“You say it requires a lot of magic--?”

Damianos interrupted before more detailed questions could follow. “We have of course discussed the problem at length with Prince Laurent,” he saw the Regent’s knuckles clench ever so slightly on the stem of his glass, “and he has assured us that, unless we can think of another solution, the amount of magic we will need is similar to the task undertaken by the Crown Prince Auguste.” It was a slight lie--since Laurent was trying to find an alternate solution--but he wanted to see the Regent’s reaction to hearing that Damianos knew of the elder prince’s fate.

He did not disappoint. A vein bulged in his forehead for a split second and he placed his unfinished wine down with a cool clink. 

“I see. My nephew has clearly been busy. Since it is clear that you are able to come to Vere’s shores, we wish to cultivate goodwill with Akielos,” Damianos smiled at his magical immunity and the hell it was raising, “and want you to be able to return home to rule. Perhaps I could offer a solution.”

The Regent moved smoothly through his study and unlocked an ornate cabinet. When he returned, there was a large glass bottle in his hand with some viscous dark red liquid sloshing about inside. Damianos thought that it looked like blood.

“This is…some of the most powerful magic we have in Vere. Though many in the books we have try to explain this, even we do not fully understand. If you like, as a sign of goodwill, you and your companions may take it as a gift from Vere to Akielos. Have my nephew go with you to your ship and--”

“I will not accept this.” Damianos said, untrusting of what exactly this magic potion was.

The Regent blinked, clearly unused to being interrupted, and his expression was cool. “And why not?”

Damianos smiled and he imbued it with all the ice he could manage. He was not used to having his decisions questioned. “Did I stutter? Shall I use smaller words?”

The Regent took his wine and drank without taking his eyes from Damianos.

“My nephew has the unique and irritating ability to sour people to me. I assure you he does have other…more amenable skills.”

“Yes, I am told he is the finest magician in Vere.” And he also made soft, kittenish noises in his sleep when Damianos scratched the soft hairs just above his temple.

The Regent smiled but it had a tinge of bitterness bordering on jealousy. “It was he who was meant to keep our borders up in the ocean. But…as you have seen, the gods had other plans for him.”

“They always do for future kings,” Damianos said, relishing the vein popping out again. 

“So you intend to stay in Vere. For how long?”

“That is between myself and the crown prince. It is by his word alone that I would take leave of Arles and return. But…I believe he enjoys having us close at hand.” He could feel the silk of Laurent's forehead, phantom on his fingertips, and he smiled with warmth.

The Regent looked carefully at Damianos as if he was trying to find Laurent’s sweat and seed on Damianos’ hands. Damianos interrupted before the man could imagine anything further.

“Despite your suggestions, I have no intent to leave just yet. I have unfinished business here in Vere and I will be returning to my chambers if you have nothing further to say.”  

“When I spoke with Nikandros--”

It was exactly the wrong thing to say. 

Damianos knew Nik had been in this room and his fury rose up faster and more violent than waves in a storm as he thought of those awful, pale hands on Nik’s temple. The Regent, imagining Nik as a boy--beautiful, warm as the sun and the wood of docks--as he spewed this poison, as he touched Nik’s braids. And Nikandros, polite as he was, would let this man handle him. 

Damianos had a storm’s winds in his chest as he stood, struggling to keep his wits about him. His fury was threatening to swallow him whole and so he stood before his hands went to murder. 

He did not see the Regent’s face, but he was sure the fear was there.

“I will say this only once.” He said slowly, as if speaking too quickly would unleash his torrent of anger. “I do not kill you now because it is a foul thing, an act of blasphemy, in my country, to kill a host in his home,” woe betide the Regent of Vere if Damianos encountered him in the streets, “but know this: you speak of these matters to me, and me alone. If you bring either of my men here--if you  _ speak _ to them--without me, I swear on the gods I will wash the stairwells with your magic blood.”

Damianos did not wait for an answer to his decree; he felt his point had been made. Even so, he felt something sturdy snap in his hand.

He was several paces away before he had calmed his heart enough to see what was in his hand. It was the door handle, carved from whalebone, which he had apparently wrenched clean out of the door. There was a crack in the bone from where he had gripped it too hard in his fist.

He threw it to the ground and stalked off, hoping to find one of the three people in the palace who could put him at ease. 

It was Laurent he found first, Laurent who was cool water to Nik’s sunlight. Laurent who knew distress and knew it so well that he stopped the spell he was practicing--golden dust falling and disintegrating midair--to move to Damianos’ side. His slim hands hesitated close enough that Damianos could almost feel the temperature of his palms, the temperature of shaded marble. 

“My uncle?” He asked, though it was not much of a question. 

“He had…” Damianos could scarcely get the words out. He knew Nikandros was a man grown and one of the strongest men in Akielos but he disliked the idea of him alone with that foul man; he was overprotective by nature. “He first attempted to coerce Nikandros.”

“ _ Bastard _ .” Damianos was pleased to see that Laurent looked as darkly furious as Damianos felt. The fingers of Laurent’s right hand clenched to claws and he thrust his fingers out, causing the hair to stand up on Damianos’ arms. “He’ll not try it again soon, I swear.” 

“ _ Nik _ ,” As his anger faded, cold concern took its’ place, “I must find him and make sure he is alright.”

“He is immune just as you are and he could snap my uncle’s back like a twig.” Laurent soothed him. “Shall I search him out?” He must have realized he need not have asked and his fingertips brushed Damianos’ skin as he searched. “Nikandros is fine; he is with Pallas, it appears.”

“Thank you. Thank the gods.”

Laurent’s expression and fingers were gentle again. “I assume my uncle asked you to leave. Or betray and kill me in some fashion?”

Damianos nodded, suddenly exhausted. “He tried to bargain with me. Said he’d give me a full bottle of magic.” Damianos remembered the viscous red stuff in the bottle and shuddered. “If I would leave and have you see us off at the beach, he would give me…it looked like a bottle of blood.”

“Likely it was a bottle of blood. Pure blood magic” Laurent said without flinching. “What do you think he does with those magical little pets of his? Born with too much natural magic, too much beauty, and not enough money. No one will…take notice when he drains them of all that they have.”

“Oh  _ gods _ .” If Damianos had been the fainting type he would have staggered back. “How can he be allowed to do this?” 

“He is not. It is illegal, taboo, but he is the Regent of Vere, he has some of the best compelling magic in the entire kingdom, and he can play almost everyone’s minds like a spider pulling at strings. Luckily you are immune or I’d have to destroy you.” The discussion was so somber and dark, Damianos startled himself with a laugh as Laurent gave him cheek. 

“It would take someone extraordinary to sway me, much less destroy me.”

This time it was Laurent’s turn to laugh as he shook the hair from his face. “You do not find me extraordinary?”

Damianos thought of the soldier’s whispers, how Laurent of Vere was the most powerful magician in the entire palace, when he was not plagued by insomnia. Damianos wanted to see him truly unleash, maybe blow the Regent of Vere to pieces. He wondered if the Regent was wrong and Laurent was powerful enough to raise Ios from the sea without sacrificing his life.

His eyes were bright as the sea and it made Damianos’ mouth dry. 

“I find…myself concerned that I will receive your blood in a bottle. I have become rather fond of it in your cheeks.” 

Laurent responded with the aforementioned flush and his pinkie fingers grazed Damianos’ jaw. It must have felt wonderful to have a clear head and Damianos also felt his anger trickling away as the gold dust began to float in the air again; he was reminded of the tiny shimmering creatures that floated and flashed like stars in still, deep waters.

“What spell are you unsuccessfully attempting to cast on me?” 

Laurent grinned, refusing to rise to the challenge as he dropped his hands away from Damianos’ face. “This spell is something like…it is supposed to make any person who enters my room stand stiff in confusion or forget why they have come to see me.” He watched as Damianos attempted to touch one of the golden sparkles. “How frustrating that you’ve kept your wits about you.” 

“It may yet work. Give it a moment more.” He made his way through the galaxies till he was at Laurent’s side again. “You are just…creating this?”

Laurent looked up at him and his expression was filled with genuine delight. “Yes. Magic is a fluid, changing thing and Veretians can constantly create. If only we gave the knowledge to all and did not hoard the knowledge away in our private studies…” Damianos guessed then that the common Veretian citizens did not have the time or access to the palace’s vast library. “When I was young my brother and I would create spells together in the gardens. Just…small things.” 

“The only thing my half-brother has created are problems for me.” Damianos laughed. “Well, and two nieces and one nephew.”

“And he rules in your stead?”

“Gods no!” Damianos laughed. “In Akielos, our  _ kyroi _ choose a new king or queen from the best and brightest of the sailors. My half-brother is ruled by his cock and married a…a pirate queen and now they try to stay one step ahead of the Patran navy.” 

It was clearly not the answer Laurent had expected because he started laughing quietly, the golden dust exploding softly along with his laughter. 

“You Akielons continually astound. What a novel way to decide upon a ruler.”

“The Akielons want the best to keep our islands safe.”

“And now you are bragging.” Laurent laughed in disbelief. “If you are like this as a general rule then I can imagine why your brother took to piracy.”

“Perhaps he had the right idea: being at sea most of the time, staying far from the city.” His tone must have taken on the sound of melancholy because Laurent looked up at him and the gold fell like rain, disappearing in mid-air before it hit Damianos’ shoulders. 

“I will not let your city sink to the sea. I swear it.”

Damianos forced himself to smile and he saw Laurent’s eyes dart to his cheek. “I know you will. Now,” he sat on the chair closest to Laurent, “will you show me more?” Though it did not affect him, he thought of the violet  _ helene _ and the floating fire and the galaxies of gold, wishing to see more. 

Laurent flushed again and allowed his pinkie finger to graze Damianos’. He would have a clear head at least. “Of course.”

 


	10. The Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who has only written like 2 sentences in the past week??? It's me hahaha! I've been playing Fire Emblem and painting and just...no words have been coming. If I'm not able to write anything this week either, I might not be able to update next Thursday. So...if I don't update next week that's why.  
> I wonder what's going to happen this time? I ask after glancing at the title. Probably Nik's heart is going to break in half, that's what. He does not deserve this at all <3 Also, surprise! The Regent's pet is not Nicaise and we get to meet actual Nicaise this chapter ;)  
> Enjoy!

**10\. The Kiss**

Though practicing sparring on the sands did help keep Damianos from feeling like a bird in a cage, it did not completely put him at ease. 

The morning had started off with such promise as well. 

Damianos had spread out his arms in his sleep and Laurent and Nikandros had taken advantage of the open space. Laurent’s head was right below his chin, cradled protectively in Nik’s hand, while Nik’s forehead was pressed against Laurent’s bare shoulder where his sleeping shirt had slipped low. If Damianos did not adore Nik so, he might have been jealous over how easily Laurent let Nik touch him. 

But his rush of affection was dampened almost immediately when he took in the gray cast of the room. 

He slid his arm out smoothly, without waking his two companions and cleared the wayward mass of dark curls from his face. It was, as he had feared, and as he moved to the window he could have cursed the gods of Vere. It was raining heavily.

He did not know how long he stared out the window, but it was long enough for Laurent at least to wake up.

“Damianos?”

“It is raining.” He said, trying not to sound as distraught as he felt.

“Truly, nothing escapes your notice.” Laurent said sleepily and Damianos heard his bare feet on the floors. “And we cannot control the weather very well.”

“I think I will lose my mind if I must stay inside another day.” 

Laurent was quiet and remained so until Nikandros began to stir in their shared bed. It was a casual suggestion but it had the edge of wickedness underneath that Damianos was beginning to associate with Laurent’s well-rested personality. “We could go outside.”

“Nothing like walking around in the rain.” Nikandros said, doubtlessly remembering all the times he had been soaked to the skin sailing off on some ill-gotten venture with Damianos. 

Laurent bumped against him, his annoyance negated by how he relaxed the moment he came into contact with Nik. “We have clothes that repel the rain, though I will instruct the servants to keep them far from you if you continue to vex me.” Nik rubbed the base of his skull and Laurent’s eyes glazed over as he looked back to Damianos. “I mean, we could go outside the palace walls. Into the city.”

“Yes!” Damianos turned quickly, so excited he felt like his face was glowing. Laurent reddened accordingly, his eyes enormous. “Yes, I want to see Arles.”

“Ok.” Laurent breathed.

“What about your uncle?” Nikandros asked sensibly.

“Fuck my uncle.”

“I doubt I could stomach such a thing.” Nik said with a shudder and Damianos laughed. “Although I would love to watch him try and stop us.” Damianos thought of how satisfying it would be to have both himself and Nikandros slam into either side of the Regent’s rib cage. 

“On a day like today, most of the lazy Veretian nobles will be holed up in their rooms fucking. No one will notice as we slip away and the city will still be as busy as normal.” Laurent said.

Damianos all but bounced in place as Nik considered this flagrant disregard of the rules. Laurent also turned to face Nik, his wide eyes and sweet face hopefully making a compelling argument in favor of sneaking out.

“Alright, alright. We’ll sneak out. Gods know we’ve done it plenty of times before.” Nikandros’ shoulders slumped in defeat and he blinked as Laurent and Damianos smiled up at him. “But we are not exactly of the…subtlest form to escape notice.”

“Not to worry; I’ll just kill all the witnesses.” Laurent said flippantly and Nik all but stepped back in horror. “I’m  _ joking _ Nikandros. I can find you a disguise…maybe.”

“You inspire confidence, Your Highness.”

Damianos’ mood and confidence was vastly improved by this new plan and he leaned most of his weight across Nik’s shoulders in hopes of getting in his good graces. “Bath first. Would you like to join us, Laurent?” It was half a joke, but Damianos also thought his complexion could do with a good dose of steam and hot water. Maybe one of those firm shoulder massage that were so popular in the Akielon naval academy.

He turned as red as a beetroot and walked away without even bothering to respond. 

Still, he must have taken the time to freshen up in his own quarters because he was pale and clean by the time he returned an hour later.

Laurent handed them two cloaks and Nikandros choked on his laughter as Damianos donned his and it barely fell to mid-thigh. Laurent also smiled behind his hand.

“Thank the gods you’ve given us these cloaks.” Damianos said, deadpan. “This way no one will recognize us.”

“I could go down and wrench a tapestry from the wall, if you prefer.” 

“If you can reach it,” Damianos said, falsely sour, and Laurent’s fist rapped him in the gut. 

“I would like to reserve the orgy tapestry.” Nikandros said before Damianos could claim it.

“Damn it, Nikandros.”

“ _ Please _ . We have more than one orgy tapestry.” Laurent said, tossing the other cloak at Nik’s face and laughing when Nik could not catch it in time. It almost wrapped around his entire head. “No decent palace can have just one.”

“We should start embroidering our sails with similar scenes. Here,” Damen reached over to help Nik, who was still struggling with his cloak, “shall we?”

One annoyance of being immune to the effects of magic was that Damianos and Nik could not be concealed by magical means. Laurent did something to himself that would allow him to pass by undetected but Damianos and Nikandros were given the less dignified option of scaling a tree and sliding down over the palace walls or holding the guards steady so Laurent could incapacitate them.

Though Damianos assured Nik he would catch him should he fall off the wall, Nik balked. So the guards it was.

Someone must have expected them to try and sneak out because there were guards at even the smallest doors that led outside of the gardens. But a small coral-inlaid door only had two green looking guards standing by and Nikandros looked regretful as they approached.

“Oh gods Damen, they’re basically  _ boys _ .”

“Laurent won’t kill them, Nik. At…least I don’t think he will.” 

“Heavens save me. Grasp them gently, will you please?” The guards had noticed them and were bristling with spears that seemed a size too large for them.

“How can I be anything but gentle when I hear you call me ‘Damen’?” Damianos asked, cheeky at seeing Nik’s blush. “Hello gentlemen!” The guards did not even have enough time to prepare a response before Damianos and Nikandros were on them.

Nik swept the leg of one guard, careful not to touch his bare skin, but Damianos’ strategy was less effective. The other guard managed to hit Damianos squarely in the solar plexus with the butt end of his spear and Damianos had the wind knocked out of him. He went down with an ‘oof’, landing on top of the young guard who shrieked. 

Laurent could barely walk for his laughter as he emerged from his hiding place behind a tree. Nik was also grinning wide and Damianos would have demanded they get on with this, had he been able to breathe. Somehow Laurent managed the spell through his laughter and the guards went limp after Damianos rolled to the side.

“ _ Fuck… _ ” Damianos croaked, rolling onto his back. He accepted Nik’s helpful hand and shot a good-natured glare at Laurent as he got to his feet. “I assume they’re just asleep?”

“Unless you crushed him before the spell was cast,” Laurent said, wiping at the corners of his eyes, “Oh  _ gods _ , I shall laugh about that for ages.” Nik coughed and Damianos tugged at his braids, the traitor. “Just through here then.”

Laurent held the door open for the both of them so that they could duck below the stone arch and he giggled again as Damianos passed him. “You went ‘oof’.”

Damianos laughed before he could catch himself and yanked gently on the tips of Laurent’s hair. “You’re going to go ‘oof’ when I elbow you in the stomach tonight.” This only made Laurent laugh harder and Nik looked between the two of them quietly. 

It was clear after a few moments of walking, that this was not the first time Laurent had slipped away from the castle.

The path below the trees was well-worn, shielded from the rain, and it was not long before they encountered the polished shell-like cobblestones of the city streets. Damianos peered out from between the dark green leaves and did see that people were moving about on the streets, uncaring for the rain. His heartbeat was in his throat.

He felt Laurent’s finger’s graze the inside of his wrist. “Don’t lose your nerve now.” 

 

It was good that Laurent came with them, because otherwise Damianos and Nik might have gotten blissfully lost in the winding, iridescent streets of Arles. 

People were still bustling through the city streets without much concern for the rain, their clothes unstained by water or muck on the streets. Damianos tried to be subtle but his eye kept being drawn by magical curios and architectural details. 

Laurent smiled as Nik’s braids kept hitting him as he turned his head to look.

He took them to the food market first; down both sides of a series of narrow alleys, with a canopy of blue and green silks, and a smell of roasting garlic and baking bread that made Damianos’ mouth water. Removing their hoods made it easier to cut through the crowds, though people stared, and Laurent led them to some of his favorite stalls.

“Your highness, you are too thin.” Clucked the wizened old woman who hawked piles of loaves and rolls freshly steaming from the ovens. “You ought to have more cream with your breakfast.” 

“Hello, Clara.” Laurent said, kissing both of her leathery cheeks twice. “If I have much more cream, then I fear there will be none left for the rest of the city. Clara, has been selling wayward royals bread for the past fifty years. And she does not look a day over twenty.” Clara cackled at that.

“You charmer, you! And you have brought such handsome friends.”

“I am Da--.”

“I know who you are, love.” She interrupted in the casual way only the elderly could get away with. “The foreign prince and his companions. It seems you at least know how to properly put meat on your bones. Show sweet Prince Laurent how it is done.” And then she plied them with bread, adamantly refusing to take payment, even as a royal order. “I’ll not take your money, foolish boy. Take the bread and come to see me more often. I have missed your sweet face.”

Damianos and Nik thanked her profusely, as they had skipped breakfast in favor of sneaking out, and Laurent looked on in shock as they devoured their bread in two bites. It was delicious, flaky and soaked in butter, though it did not come close to whetting Damen’s appetite. Luckily, Clara was not Laurent’s only friend in the market.

People called out to Laurent indiscriminately, handing him all manner of food to try. Damianos ate everything handed to him, from the small fried sausages that tasted lightly of cinnamon and the thin buckwheat crepes stuffed with ham and cheese to pear slices baked and drizzled in caramel and thin crackers spread with soft goat cheese and fig jam. 

He and Nik were glowing with all the rich food they had consumed by the time Laurent brought out of the food market and into the merchant’s streets.

Ever more people knew Laurent there and called him over with bright, excited voices. Though at first they seemed daunted by Damianos and Nik’s presence but soon kissed their cheeks in the typical Veretian greeting and began to show their wares and swap stories.

Damianos saw bolts of cloth that shimmered like water and smoke and stars, and carvings that seemed so real that they looked to move. Pottery as smooth as water and jewelry that looked like it had been created by the gods. And the artisans poured from their shops to see Laurent. 

Damianos soon entered spirited discussion with a local smith about the heft and sharpness of some of his knives while Nik tried unsuccessfully to refuse a hand painting.

“It is to keep you from danger, Nikandros.” Laurent laughed, unhelpfully holding Nik’s hand down so that the lovely Veretian girl could paint a golden curl on his knuckle.

“It will take more than this gold paint to stop Damianos.” Nik protested, causing Laurent to laugh even harder. The girl hissed at them both, unable to make those delicate details when the both of them were shaking with laughter. 

“At least the gold suits you, you traitor.” Damianos called over.

When Nik’s entire left forearm was covered in delicate designs in gold and white and Damianos had purchased one of those crystalline daggers--this one with a blade that curved like a fang--they left the merchant streets and into a more open plaza. Damianos smiled at all the children who played with bubbles and stiffened in shock when they caught sight of him.  

Someone lithe and half-covered in a beaded dark blue shawl, bumped past Laurent, but Laurent grasped a bangled wrist, slim with youth and white as polished whalebone. “Stop, thief.” He sounded almost bored as he pried the slender fingers open to reveal…the tiny snake carving that Damianos had brought all the way from Akielos.

“Fuck.” The cheerful voice was clear as a bell, as the wily little thing relinquished his prize and pulled the scarf down off his tangle of chestnut curls. 

The boy had beautiful light blue eyes and a wide smile, his limbs just becoming gangly with the onset of manhood. He did not seem at all concerned at having been caught pickpocketing the prince of Vere.

“You’ll need to be better than that, Nicaise.” Laurent said, his fake severity giving way to a wickedly indulgent smile. 

“One day I’ll get past your defenses, Highness.” Nicaise said, dancing nimbly out of his grip and glancing at Damianos and Nik with soft, almost feline suspicion. Save Nicaise’s coloring, he and Laurent might have been brothers. “Maybe not them but…I’ll keep practicing.”

“Not where anyone can sense you, wild thing.” Laurent cautioned, flicking his fingers over the sapphire studs in Nicaise’s ivory white ears. 

“Of course!” The boy scoffed before gracing them with one last smile. Then he smoothly melted into the crowds without so much as a rustle from the dark blue beads on his shawl. Laurent watched him go with a small, soft smile.

“Who was that?” Nikandros asked.

Laurent looked up at him, a great deal of emotion in his wide eyes. “He is one of those common children born with a great deal of magic and one of the boys my uncle…kept close. I try to get them out if I can, before he kills them, and find them a place to practice in secret. But if he knows Nicaise’s power is growing…he’ll drain him for sure.” As Damianos felt a rush of anger, Nik put a comforting hand on Laurent’s shoulder. “Sometimes I sneak out just to make sure he and the others are safe.”

“You are…so very good.” Nik said and then amended very quickly. “You will make a good king, Your Highness.”   

 

It was a few hours past the midday meal when Laurent, Damianos, and Nik slipped back through another small gate in the palace walls. Two men were guarding the entrance, but all three of them relaxed when Lazar separated from Pallas with the expression of recently sated hunger. Sparks glimmered off his lips as he ran his tongue over his teeth.

“For god’s sake, Pallas.” Nik sighed and Pallas averted his eyes, his cheeks crimson.

“Lazar.” 

Lazar looked at Laurent without an ounce of shame.  “Seems we’re both breaking the rules today, eh?”

“Oh, fuck it.” Laurent said. “Nikandros, Damianos, shall we go in?”

“Oh, fuck  _ him _ ,” Lazar corrected easily and cupped Pallas’ jaw, “and thank you, I will.”

Pallas seemed very comfortable in his current situation and they left him to be devoured in favor of going up to relax and change clothes before dinner. Damianos let Nik use the bathroom first, shedding his own rain-soaked jacket over one of the carved wooden chairs in the room.

“Thank you for taking us to the city, Laurent.” Damianos said, wringing out his curls. “It is…hard for us to be so long in the same place. I only wish we could travel to the rest of Vere.”

“I’m so glad you liked it.” Laurent was beaming at Damianos’ easy compliments. “I also wish I could give you a grand tour, worthy of such important guests--.”

“We would not put you in jeopardy.” Damianos interrupted; he could not imagine the Regent wanting the three of them running amok through the countryside. “And this was more than enough.” He could not explain how touching it was to see how the people in the city loved their prince. “You do your city honor.”

Laurent’s ears were flushed. “Auguste was…he was more beloved.”

“I cannot imagine how.” Damianos said without breaking eye contact. His smile only grew wider as Laurent flushed even darker, his eyes wide with surprise at the compliment. Damianos felt a rush, almost like adrenaline, with how much he liked the prince. “You are…without equal.”

Laurent turned quickly, shielding his expression, and reached for the first thing that grabbed his attention. In this case it was a crystal decanter of red wine.     

It seemed that what small magic that kept Laurent’s hair dry, did not keep it safe from the humidity. It had begun to curl and spiral a bit and Damianos was burning with curiosity over what it might be like when it was long past his shoulders. 

As Laurent removed his jacket, Damianos could all but feel the heat rising from Laurent’s skin. He could see the pink flush of his skin through the thin fabric of his undershirt.

“Wine, Damianos?”

“C-can I kiss you?” Damianos blurted out without thinking. Laurent dropped the glass as he turned and he seemed torn between shock and laughter. Damianos was unrepentant, looking at Laurent’s fuller upper lip and the pink-red blush that was spreading from his cheeks over the bridge of his fine nose. “I…forgive me if I overstep but…I want to kiss you, Laurent.”

He left plenty of space between them, so Laurent was not intimidated by his size and strength. But even so, Laurent gripped the edge of the table to steady himself. “You certainly do not mince words. Why…?”

“Because you are lovely and intelligent and kind, for all your wickedness.” Damianos said easily. He had seen Laurent in the city, gentle with his people and gracious as a host. “Feel your freedom to refuse but it would be my honor.”

Laurent looked at him carefully and his eyes shifted away for only a moment. “But…Ni-- _ ah _ !” 

His hand had pressed against the sharp shards of glass and he pulled it back as blood began to run down his wrist. Damianos moved quickly, his hands moving to Laurent’s. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine!” Laurent insisted as Damianos began to roll up his sleeve. “It’s fine--Damianos.  _ Damen _ !” Damianos’ nickname wrenched him from his concern and he looked carefully at Laurent’s palm. It was cradled in his hands and--though some blood was still trickling down his forearm--his palm was smooth and unhurt.  _ Magic _ . “I’m fine.”

Damianos ran his thumb over Laurent’s palm and saw the hair rise on his arms. “I forget. You’re not hurt.” He sighed in relief and began to lower Laurent’s hand…though he did not release it completely.   

They stood in silence for a moment, Damianos still holding the tips of Laurent’s fingers. He did not want to let go but began to let them slide through his hand.

“You can.” Laurent said softly, almost imperceptibly. “You can…”

He tilted his head up to eliminate any lingering doubt and Damianos used his free hand to cup the back of Laurent’s neck. He was somewhat worried that Laurent would slip through his fingers like sand and seawater; he might open his eyes and find that he had been kissing a mermaid who had slipped below the sea.

But his lips were pliant and real, his breath cool and tasting vaguely of mint.

Damianos breathed him in as he tasted him and he felt Laurent’s free hand grip the front of his jacket. Though the kiss was shallow, when Damianos and Laurent broke apart, they were both breathing as heavily as if they had been locked in a passionate embrace.

Light kisses, eyes open, Damianos looked at Laurent and smiled.

“Why did you let me kiss you?” Damianos asked at a whisper. Perhaps he was still worried that someone was listening. Laurent leaned in and kissed his mouth again, suckling softly on his lower lip.

“Having regrets?” Laurent laughed and Damianos ran his lips down the high curve of Laurent’s cheekbone. “I have…not since I was fourteen have I let myself…have anything. I couldn’t with--” Damianos understood; with the Regent actively trying to destroy him, it would be hard to have anything precious that was not immune to magic, “but you Akielons are special.”  

“You flatter, Your Highness.” Damianos kissed him again. “I find you thoroughly breathtaking as well.” Laurent all but glowed at his compliments and Damianos thanked the gods that this beautiful, crafty prince desired him. If he was not worried about decorum, he might have grasped Laurent by the waist and pulled him closer. “And it was not my rugged good looks that lured you in?”

Laurent’s eyes darted to Damianos’ cheek where it would dimple if he smiled and Damianos indulged him. Laurent blushed accordingly.

“Y-you are…handsome.” Damianos kissed Laurent open-mouthed this time for all that he was sweet. When they broke apart, Laurent was leaning against Damianos and his eyes were a little glassy. “But I am…a little surprised by your interest. I had thought you were already--.”

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and Laurent stepped away from Damianos.

His flush faded quickly--the only sign of their passion was a touch of wetness on his lower lip--and Damianos felt the tingling absence of Laurent’s skin. But it was better than having Nik watch from where he was standing at the threshold. His gaze was level; it was not the first time that he had walked in on Damianos in a compromising situation but Laurent seemed embarrassed at having been caught.  

“Nikandros.” Laurent said, pulling the neck of his undershirt tight.

Nikandros looked at them both before smiling. “Don’t mind me, Your Highness.”

  
  



	11. The Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure why I love making Nik sad but it's just so good to think of him pining away like this.   
> And Laurent has finally overcome his confusion, shrugged and is now like, 'ok, more for me I guess'. I kind of enjoy writing this bold Laurent!   
> As always everyone, thanks for the love and support! Enjoy!

**11\. The Duel**

Laurent seemed hesitant to kiss Damianos again, perhaps feeling a bit embarrassed at having been caught by Nikandros, so Damianos went to sleep that night with his lips tingling. Nik had been quieter than usual, his eyes closing almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Laurent, frowning, took a moment to take Nikandros’ arm and drape it across his shoulders.

He only gave Damianos a hesitant smile, the hesitancy leaving his features as Damianos returned the smile with twice the warmth. Damianos cleared the hair from Laurent’s forehead before placing his hand at Laurent’s temple. 

“You hold the ocean in your eyes.” Damianos murmured, not wanting to snuff the candles just yet. “Is it magic?”

“Are you testing to see if your cock against my leg will protect me from magic?”

Damianos felt his cheeks flush and Laurent shook silently with laughter, clearly trying not to wake Nik. “I-I would not  _ presume _ to--” He did not want to admit it but he was only a man and his cock seemed to have a mind of its’ own.

“Then you have brought your dagger into bed with us?” 

“I-I cannot… _ help _ it. If it brings you…discomfort then we can wake Nik and have him sw--.”

“No, no it’s fine.” Laurent assured him, teasing in his tone. “Don’t wake Nikandros. I trust you to maintain decorum, Damianos.” 

“You can call me ‘Damen’.” 

“I trust you, Damen.” Laurent whispered, Damianos’ nickname just as sweet on Laurent’s lips as his kisses had been.

Damianos grinned in contentment, snuggling down closer to Laurent after hearing such a beloved thing. As he began to nod off to sleep, he reached for Nik’s hands. Nik must have been stressed because his fingers were clenched to a fist. 

Damianos gently pried his fingers open and linked his fingers in between Nik’s, squeezing softly when their fingers were intertwined. It put him at ease.

He was half asleep when he heard a noise like a soft moan of pain.

 

Damianos’ arms were empty when he woke up the next morning. 

It was unusual for him to wake up after both Laurent and Nik, especially since it was still early and he got out of bed quickly. He was uneasy when both of them were out of sight, but luckily Pallas and Lazar were lounging in their sitting room eating breakfast and were able to fill in the blanks.  

“I can only  _ hope _ they are fucking,” Lazar said easily between bites of bread and butter. He choked as Pallas rapped him hard on the stomach but seemed wholly unrepentant for his suggestion.

“How dare you speak of your prince like that!” Pallas was appalled and Lazar smiled at him. “Nikandros rose before the sun, Exalted One, and Prince Laurent rose with him. Though Nikandros seemed to wish for quiet contemplation, Prince Laurent suggested sparring instead. He was…quite insistent.”

“How unusual for him.” Lazar laughed. “Our prince is not known for giving quarter,  _ ever _ .”

“I’m sure he cannot, what with scoundrels like you running amok.” Damianos replied as he snatched a quick breakfast. Though he was more at ease knowing that the two of them were together, he also felt a rush of delight at the thought of seeing them spar. “I’ll go observe them.”

“Very well.” Lazar sounded a little too excited and Damianos amended his statement.

“Do not fuck in our rooms.” 

Pallas turned crimson. “I-I would  _ never _ , I…” Lazar seemed less repentant, grinning like he had been considering just such a thing.  

“Fuck in the hallway.” Damianos suggested on his way out and Pallas, if possible, turned even redder. Lazar brightened immediately.

“I can see why your people chose him to be king.” 

On his way to the sparring grounds, Damianos considered their timeline and realized that they had been in Arles fifty-seven days and only had a little over a month to come up with a solution to both of their problems.

_ Only one month left to kiss Laurent of Vere. _

He felt a little queasy at the thought of having to leave, combined with the dread of having their time limit sneak up on him. He and Nikandros were no closer to an answer than they had ever been; he thought carefully as he continued down toward the gardens but nothing came to him…as per the usual.

He could only think of Laurent pressed up against him…pliant and willing. 

Jord, the captain of the prince’s guard, was standing guard on the path to the training grounds and he seemed to wither a bit beneath Damianos gaze and height. “Damianos. Forgive me, but his highness has asked that the training grounds be cleared until midday--.”

“I apologize then.” Damianos said, grinning at him. “I am well-known for being incorrigibly stubborn and heedless of rules. Shall I sneak past you so you might claim ignorance or should I just push past you and tell Laurent you let me pass?” 

Jord looked like he wanted to groan but let Damianos pass without any further complaint.

He stepped softly, not wanting to interrupt a match, but Laurent and Nik had not yet begun. They had both shed their jackets and were in their gauzy white undershirts, Nik looking uncharacteristically somber and tired.

He held back, observing from behind a tree.

Damianos watched quietly as Laurent easily spun his sword over his wrist to limber up. Nik also watched him carefully, not appearing intimidated or impressed by Laurent’s skillful swordplay. 

“Your Highness, this is not… _ exactly  _ what I had in mind by a ‘relaxing walk’.” Nik said, stretching his shoulder. 

“I promise not to vex you any more than normal.” Laurent promised with a smile that promised endless vexation. 

Nik just sighed before readying himself for their clash.

Laurent rushed him without warning, Nik yelping as Laurent’s practice sword nearly came down on his fingers. “Be glad I am not as dishonorable as you or I’d crack you on the spine right this second,” Nik barked as Laurent was bent double laughing.

“Forgive me, forgive me.” Laurent gasped between laughs. “Are you prepared now?”

Nikandros readied his blade and Laurent composed himself. Dirt and sand crunched beneath their boots as they dashed towards one another. They were both startlingly quick, their blades flashing silver. Nik’s temple was perspiring from keeping track of Laurent’s quick movements and their blades rasped together.

Laurent’s shirt was sticking to his skin, becoming translucent, and he grunted as Nik caught him by the arm and tried to get him into a hold. Not easing back in any way, Laurent cocked his elbow and jabbed it hard into Nik’s flank. Nik let him go and stumbled back.

It became very clear to Damen that they were about evenly matched.

Perhaps Laurent was a little faster while Nik was a little stronger, but it was not enough for either of them to get the upper hand. They were both tiring quickly and Damianos knew they were soon going to make their play for the victory. 

He thought Nik had it when he caught Laurent by the wrist, twisting until the blade was dropped to to the sands, but Laurent used his steel grip for balance. 

He shifted his weight onto one foot before kicking Nik in the abdomen. He did not have time to scoop up his sword before Nik recovered and had to settle for a small dagger tucked into the inside of his boot. 

Quick as lightning, Laurent grabbed a fistful of Nik’s braids, pulling him closer so that Nik’s throat was pressed firmly against the tip of his small, crystalline dagger. Nik was not caught unaware in spite of his position; his blade was poised to pierce the spot where Laurent’s neck met his shoulder. It seemed neither one of them were willing to submit to the other, the stubborn things.

They made a lovely sight, with their cheeks flushed and skin glowing from exercise, chests rising and falling with almost obscene gasps. For a moment Damianos wondered if one of them was going to kill the other rather than admit defeat.

“Nik,” Laurent all but sighed his name, Damianos almost missing it.

Nik trembled and Laurent slowly drew the dagger back without breaking eye contact; Nik followed suit, withdrawing his blade. “Your Highness.”

“Why don’t you call me ‘Laurent’?” Laurent asked and his voice held a tremor that made him sound like he was on the verge of tears. But he did not look distressed, just curious. “Damianos dismissed my titles on the very first day.” Damianos blushed; he had not even realized he had been so familiar.

“I…” Nik was scarlet and this time it was noticeable. “Y-you have not…given me permission. I would not be…so  _ familiar _ with…with…” The words seemed to fail him as Laurent stepped closer and his hands became gentle on Nik’s braids. He ran them through his fingers, holding one close to his cheek. 

“Be familiar with me. Please. Call me Laurent.”

Nik stared at him and Damianos could see the pulse fluttering in Nik’s elegant, dark neck. When he finally found his voice, it seemed like it was pulled from the depths of him. “Laurent. You fight beautifully.”

Laurent smiled up at him. “Nik, you are beautiful.” Nik sputtered, his face glowing and Laurent laughed softly. “Can I kiss you?”

“B-but Damianos--you…and he--”

“I cannot kiss you both? How bold of you, telling me what I can and cannot do in my own palace.” Nik seemed at a loss for words, perhaps not realizing Laurent was joking until the prince grinned wide at him, close to laughter. He repeated, gentler this time. “I cannot kiss you both?”

“W-well, yes, you  _ can _ but--”

He did not get a chance to finish his thought. Damianos felt that breathless swoop in his stomach as Laurent shifted his hand to Nik’s neck and pulled his head down so that their lips were pressed tight together. Nik’s mouth had been half open in surprise and Damianos saw Laurent’s tongue move past Nik’s lips. 

Nik’s dark hands hesitated a moment, but he dropped his sword to the dust and held Laurent’s face with both hands. Damianos felt his heartbeat in his throat as he recalled the feel of Laurent’s lips and the taste of Nik’s skin, like sea salt. 

If it had been anyone else, Damianos would have burned with jealousy but he adored Laurent of Vere and Nik was his  _ agapetós _ . Quite the opposite of jealousy, his mind was alight with possibilities.

He left them to their intimacies in peace.    

 

Despite the possibilities that Damianos considered, despite the tingling ache of lust that had begun to build to a fever pitch inside of him, he could not bring any of them to fruition within the first day of having seen Laurent kiss Nik. 

He had to pretend that nothing at all was amiss when Nik came back to their rooms smelling earthy and erotic and warm. His shirt was gone, doubtless given to the palace launderer to soak out the sweat and the planes of his brown torso were still glistening. Damianos smiled as he saw Nik rubbing his lower lip thoughtfully where Laurent’s kisses would linger.

Damianos understood the feeling.

“Nik.” Nik jumped and flushed as Damianos called out to him. He had not noticed his best friend, he had been so lost in thought. 

“D-Damen! I didn’t…notice you there.”

Damianos smiled. “I missed you at breakfast. Pallas said you were taking time alone to think.” He was pleased when Nik turned an even deeper shade of crimson. “Do you feel better? It seems it was hot outdoors.”

“I-I do… _ Thank you _ .” Nikandros said, bowing his head. He never had been very good at lying to Damianos. “If you’ll excuse me…I’ll wash up before…” He did not finish his sentence before turning to the bathing room, nor did he invite Damianos to join him. Damianos hoped that his friend found solitary pleasure in the tub.  

In the meantime, he thought of how he might proceed, knowing that Laurent was willing to kiss them both. In his mind, this made the prince even more attractive though…Nik might be too shy to propose or express interest in such a thing.

All of his careful, sweet thoughts had to be put aside for even sweeter thoughts of Laurent joining Nik and Damen in the bath, his skin flushing from the steam and Nik’s face flushing at all that smooth skin.

Laurent would slide into the warm water, perhaps using Nik’s shoulder as balance to keep from slipping, and his eyes would flutter shut in ecstasy. The Laurent in his mind, cheeky as ever, would ask Nik to rub oils into his hair and he would jolt and giggle as Damianos soaped his legs. 

The laughter would turn high-pitched and breathy as Nik’s hands slid lower and Damianos’ moved higher. He thought of Laurent and Nik kissing…

…And nearly fell from his chair as Nik exited the bathroom, clean and devoid of blush.

Damianos stood a little too quickly and went to his  _ agapetós  _ to unpin his braids. “Have you cooled down?” His smallest finger brushed Nik’s cheek and he felt like he was still running a little hot.

“A little.”

Damianos smiled at that and watched as Nik put on a fresh set of clothes and came to sit across from him at their sitting room table. He had never been known for his patience. “Nik…I have an idea…of sorts.”

Nik had seen and experienced too many of Damianos’ ideas to not be suspicious and his eyes narrowed accordingly. “I am concerned.”

“I haven’t even told you what the idea is yet!”

“And yet I feel overwhelming concern.”

Damianos smiled and hoped that Nik would at least consider his idea. The rules were a little different when the person they were wooing a prince. He was trying to formulate a response when the door to their chambers all but exploded inward.     

Laurent of Vere spilled inside, almost tripping over the threshold. 

“Please hurry!” Laurent gasped, his face whiter than it had been the first day they had met. “ _ Please _ !” 

Nik had gotten to his feet before Laurent had even asked ‘please’ a second time and Damianos pushed the enormous table back with a hair-raising screech, leaving long scratches in the wooden floors. He did not have his full-sized sword, but he did have the small dagger he had purchased in Arles a week ago. It was so light, he barely felt it in his hand, and just focused on the sharp angles of Laurent’s shoulder blades.

Laurent must have run with magic because his feet scarcely seemed to touch the floor and he outstripped both Damianos and Nik. Still their legs were long and they were no stranger to running, so they kept pace only a breath behind him.

People all but leapt from their path, a few pets screaming as they thundered past.

Laurent did not stop until they were coming close to the Regent’s quarters and the captain of the guard and one of his foot soldiers turned to face him. Damianos did not stop and launched himself at the captain.

They both crashed to the floor and Damianos felt the man crunch under him. There was a rush of something hot over his head, followed by a sharp yelp of pain, and Damianos was struck with fear until he heard Laurent ordering Nik.

“Break down the door, Nikandros!” 

“Kick the left side.” Damianos suggested, remembering how he had snapped the knob off not too long ago. The captain of the guard groaned and tried to make an effort to push Damianos off of him, but Damianos reached for his wrist and snapped it easily. “Have we met somewhere before?”

The captain’s howl of pain almost drowned out the sound of splintering wood; Nik must have truly put all of his weight behind the blow. Damianos used the guard’s head to push himself off the stone floors and Laurent helped him up the rest of the way. Nik had indeed smashed open the door and was awaiting further direction. 

Laurent moved past him, pushing through rooms until he reached one that made him grip his head in pain. 

Nikandros grabbed Laurent’s head, covering his temple, and this time Damianos barrelled through the door with his shoulder. The beautifully carved wood was no match for him and the door split in two around his body.

It took him a moment to process what was going on inside the small, dark room. 

The small boy who often trotted around at the Regent’s side was slumped on the floor as an afterthought, his thin chest rising and falling rapidly from exertion. At least he was alive, which gave Damianos some small margin of relief as he tried to process what else was going on inside the room. 

The Regent was frozen in shock, his hands still outstretched from whatever magic he had been casting. Twisting and morphing in the air was a liquid galaxy of crimson that was seeping up from the limp, bone-white form of Nicaise, that lovely boy from the city. He was lying on a long table covered in dark stains, with a large glass jar by his chest. He looked all but dead, his breath terrifyingly shallow. Even though Damen had never seen such a great and terrible thing before, he knew in his heart what it was.

_ Blood magic _ . 

“Oh  _ gods _ .” Nikandros gasped and Laurent made a heartbreaking sound like someone had stabbed him in the side. That small sound was all it took. 

Nikandros knew that Damianos had a temper on him--a black, violent temper--that only seemed to emerge when someone he cared for was in direct jeopardy. He often woke up from these bouts of anger with large gaps in his memory and forearms dripping blood. Hearing both Nik and Laurent so distressed behind him turned his thoughts to a tangle of twisted black pitch. 

He did not even remember he had a dagger in his hands until his vision cleared and he saw it had been buried several times in the Regent’s right shoulder. Surely there were more dignified ways of stopping him, but the man deserved no dignity and this seemed to have done the trick.

The Regent had slumped to the floor in a small puddle of his own blood, but only Damianos was giving him the slightest modicum of attention. 

Nikandros was cradling Nicaise’s head, dark curls spilling through his fingers, as Laurent seemed to be easing the floating cloud of blood back into Nicaise’s skin. His expression was distraught and rightfully so; Nicaise looked to be on the verge of death. 

At first Damianos thought that Laurent was chanting a prayer but, upon listening carefully, he was actually repeating, “Please, please, please,” anguish in his tone. It may have have been his imagination or the stress but Laurent seemed to glow from whatever magic he was employing.

The blood eased back into Nicaise’s skin, giving him flush but they still all held their breath in wait, in hope. Laurent shuddered out a sigh of relief as Nicaise’s chest rose and his long eyelashes fluttered a little. 

“Oh gods,” Laurent staggered back, his glow dissipating to an alarmingly ashy pallor. It must have taken a tremendous amount of magic to save the youth from being drained. Nik looked as though he ached to reach out and steady Laurent but he was still holding the boy’s head; Damianos stepped in and all but held Laurent up. “He called out for me. He  _ screamed _ for me.” 

“Nicaise,” Nik patted the boy’s cheek until the boy was blinking normally, his blue eyes still a little hazy. “He’s alive Laurent, he’s alive, just  _ breathe _ .” 

As the Regent groaned and the other boy--clearly sapped of his magic to siphon out Nicaise’s blood--woke up and began to sob, Nicaise also began to cry, tears running silently down his cheeks and into his lush hair. Nik tried to wipe away the tears as best he could as he picked Nicaise off that horrible bloodstained table and Damianos might have kicked the Regent in the ribs once or twice.

This chaotic tableaux was what greeted what seemed like half the castle of Arles, as they followed the commotion. 

 


	12. The Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I wasn't going to post anything this week because I hadn't found the energy to write and I was only like 5 pages in to the next chapter. But then yesterday I had a day off and I was suddenly able to write out like 7 pages in a single evening??? Go figure.  
> In any case this is probably one of my favorite chapters cause Nik is able to get out all of these emotions that he's kept bottled up for YEARS. Damen is the shocked Pikachu meme and Laurent is the Confused Nick Young meme during the entire exchange. They're all a mess.  
> To be honest, I think I've been hitting a bit of a burnout recently with writing but I'm going to work hard to finish this story before I take a long break.  
> Enjoy!

**12\. The Decision**

They must have been a startling sight for those nosy Veretian nobles and pets, the four of them standing together in unity and fury at the center of the Council Chamber.

Nik was coiled tight and nervous as he held the slender, exhausted form of Nicaise. The boy did not even move as Nik patted his curls, as if to soothe him. Damianos knew he was terrifying; his fists were covered in drying blood and droplets of it had splashed onto his clothes. He glared at anyone who stared or came too close and held one hand at the base of Laurent’s skull.

And Laurent, Laurent was clearly sapped of strength as he leaned hard against Damianos’ flank. He was ghostly pale and his cheeks seemed hollow but his eyes glowed like hot coals in a brazier.

Fury incarnate, the three of them were.

The Regent sat across the room from them, the blood flow having stopped even though most of his face was still swollen and crimson from whatever hell Damianos had visited on him. He did not look at all contrite as the Veretian council members tried to understand what exactly had gone on in the Regent’s quarters.

It seemed as though the Council members were going to allow the Regent to defend himself first before Nik spoke up in the silence of the chamber and asked if it was not more acceptable to allow the crown prince to speak first. Damianos felt the hair on his arms raise and wondered just how much magic was being sent across the room as all eyes swiveled guiltily to Laurent.

“Is he trying to influence them?” Damianos whispered, resisting the urge to touch Laurent’s temples.

“He is always trying to influence them.” Laurent’s voice was less than a sigh. “Thank the gods I am a match for him.”

“Do not exhaust yourself.” Damianos insisted. If worse came to worse, he could just finish what he started and bury his dagger in the Regent’s throat.

Laurent laughed weakly. “As if I would let him crush me now.” His voice was not at all weak when the councilors called on him to testify what he had seen inside the Regent’s quarters after Nicaise had sent him a magical plea for help. He leaned a little harder on Damianos when the ordeal was done.

The Regent did not do much by way of defending himself, simply stating in his cool, silken voice that Laurent was exhausted, slipping in his mind while his memories suffered. Laurent, according to him, was untrustworthy at best and--much to Damianos’ fury--being coerced to commit a coup by their guests. Nik and Laurent had to hold onto either of Damianos’ arms to keep him from leaping across the room and finishing what he had started.

It was rude beyond measure to place an accusation like this upon a guest.

“Will we be asked for our testimony?” Nik asked, holding Nicaise closer as the councilors seemed to convene to make a decision.

“No, of course not.” Laurent laughed weakly. “There is no protocol for foreigner visitors, much less royalty, involved in disputes of the crown. And remember they are still terrified of you since no magic will compel you.”

“Your councilors are fools.” Damianos snarled.

“I doubt you would even remember what happened.” Nik whispered in reply and the boy in his arms giggled, the sound even weaker than Laurent’s responses. “Although I do think it should be something you amend when you take the throne.”

“I’ll be sure to make it a priority.” Laurent sighed.

“Am I allowed to ask for a paper and ink so you might write Nik’s ruling suggestions down, or is that not allowed as well?” Damianos asked sourly. His left arm began to tremble and he realized Laurent was laughing silently against him.

“The sea salts your heart and tongue, it seems.” Nicaise added unhelpfully.

“I’ll command him to drop you if you vex me.” Damianos countered and Nik joined in the silent laughter.

He was only vaguely aware that most of the Veretian nobles and the Regent were staring at their group in almost open-faced shock that the prince and his guests would be laughing in such a situation. Their good humor did dissipate when the councilors returned with their deliberation.

Damianos glared at everyone and anyone, as if daring them not to do their damnedest to keep the man out of their mind and their decisions.

The Regent did not blink or show any emotion past disinterest when the verdict was read.

Exile from Vere, not for the constant attacks on his nephew, but for practicing blood magic.

Damianos would have liked to have him beheaded in the town square, but he supposed he would have to settle for exile. He hoped whatever boat they gave him sank below the waters of the shore and the waves pounded him to death beneath the surface.

Damianos and Nik breathed a sigh of relief but Laurent did not look at all at ease.

 

The Regent, his captain, and a few of his loyal guards were shipped from the black shores of Vere on a misty, gray morning not long after he was convicted.

Damianos, Nik, and Pallas were all allowed to join the prince, his guards, and the councilors of Vere on the almost forbidden act of walking to the shores. Damianos felt a rush of joy at seeing his ship, still untouched, and the choppy sea. He, Pallas, and Nik all breathed in the salt-sweet smell of it, having been away for too long. All the Veretians stayed back with the exception of Laurent who stayed firmly in between Damianos and Nik, his eyes cold.

The ship they had produced for the Regent was of some strange, pearly white wood that seemed to disappear into the mist before its’ crew did. The Regent did not even look back at them, choosing to stare ahead into his future. Laurent watched him until he disappeared and even then ordered his guards to take turns standing watch and keeping up a small barrier to make sure his uncle could not return.

“Where will he go?” Pallas asked as they rode back to the palace.

“The fuck if we know.” Lazar responded cheerfully. “Those boats are made and enchanted to sail from the Veretian border and never return. And besides, the prince will be of age to ascend to rule in a little over two months. If he tries to come back then our new king will likely just lop his head off.”

Laurent’s mouth quirked up for a moment but he lapsed into quiet contemplation that set Damianos ill at ease. He did not seem like a jubilant man who had just seen his greatest enemy from his shores.

Nik joined in his concern when Laurent shuttered himself in his rooms on their return from the shore and did not emerge until the next evening.

Damianos was keeping track of every moment, he remembered every detail with perfect clarity, because that evening was when Nik came upon a startlingly simple solution for the problem of Vere’s protection. They had waited for Laurent in the library and held out hope he would show, but when the candles were lit due to the darkness, Damianos finally gave in.

“Should we go to see him?” Damianos asked Nik as they walked back to their rooms.

“Let him be, Damen.” Nik said. “He is probably exhausted. We still…have some time before,” Nik did not finish his thought, “I can only hope he finds our most recent plan acceptable.” Damianos leaned down to softly clamp his teeth on Nik’s neck.

It tasted of the ocean.

“I’m sure he will. It’s simple and it can…we could see him again.” That was the hardest part about considering their return to Ios: was that they might not see Laurent again. Nik nodded softly in agreement. “I’ll try to be patient.”

“Highly unlikely.”

Nik had to pause from being sarcastic, when they opened the door to their chambers and found a folded piece of paper, sealed with gold wax on their table. Damianos saw the gold stars and his heart skipped beats as he realized the source.

“Laurent.” He did not want to seem too eager and allowed Nik to take it.   

Nik gasped the moment he touched it. Damianos jolted as the paper shimmered in Nik’s hands and fell open, and slapped it from his grip.

“For gods’ sake Damianos, the letter did not draw blade against me.” Nik grumbled, picking the paper back up. “In all likelihood Laurent enchanted the paper to keep anyone else from opening it. But in our hands the enchantment would be useless.” Damianos remembered the map to Vere and how the chains had disintegrated into light at his touch.

“Is it another map?”

“Gods forbid.” Nik groaned before inspecting the paper. “It is written in Akielon at least. Some grammatical errors--”

“For fuck’s sake, Nik!” Damianos tugged Nik’s braid and Nik laughed for all he knew that Damianos was burning with curiosity.

“It…it is from Laurent.” Nik looked concerned and Damianos also felt a drip of fear trailing down his spine. “He says not to worry, which…somehow worries me, and asks if we can slip unnoticed into his quarters.” Nik yelped and dropped the paper himself as it burst into violet flame. “Do you think he’s in danger?”

Nik was already moving towards the door and Damianos shrugged.

“Only one way to find out.”

They slipped out into the darkened halls of Arles and Damianos considered that all the excitement of having murder and treason happening inside of the palace must have sent the nobles and pets into a sexual frenzy. Some doors were literally shaking from people making vigorous love against them. At least it kept the hallways mostly clear and they were able to get to Laurent’s quarters without being noticed by anyone.

Damianos knocked softly on the door and Laurent must have been waiting for them because he opened after the first knock. He was wearing another one of those gauzy white shirts and a pair gauzy pajama pants that were something to see when the room was softly lit with a dozen warm candles behind Laurent.

He did not get much time to enjoy the view as Laurent ushered them in and Damianos got a whiff of the almond-scented soap he used. His hair was still damp and Damianos almost jumped at the door closed behind him.

Nik shot him a look of exasperation. He knew Damianos well enough.

“Laurent,” Damianos found that his mouth was rather dry at the combined effect of Laurent clean and in his nightclothes, “is everything alright?”

Laurent turned and it was a little quicker, more frenetic than Damianos had expected. “Alright? Yes, it is. I apologize if I startled you.” He took care to stay a few steps back, keeping unusual distance between himself and his guests.

Nik seemed to sense his tension and cocked his head gently, braids spilling over his shoulder. “We are simply surprised. It is not everyday pieces of paper burst into flames in my hands. And…” Laurent’s already wide eyes grew wider at Nik’s next statement, “we have missed you.”

“We have grown accustomed to you with us.” Damianos said easily.

“Are you sleeping well?” Nik asked, concerned.

Laurent took a deep breath and looked around for a moment. He seemed shocked, on the verge of something before he could compose himself. “I’m…I’m fine. I have not slept so well on my own in _ages_. Thank you.”  

Damianos and Nik both relaxed. “Though you can sleep well on your own…please know that we would still welcome you in our bed.” Damianos said, finding himself pleased as Laurent smiled.

Nik paused before extended a more tempered offer. “You may still have enemies nearby.” Laurent laughed a little at Nik’s particular brand of sensible sweetness. “And late night summons will, of course, raise alarm.”

“I just need to--” Laurent’s hesitancy from earlier seemed to evaporate as he crossed the distance between himself and Damianos, reaching his hands up. They were cool on Damianos’ cheeks and Damianos leaned down instinctively. Laurent’s lips were warm and willing, just as he remembered, and he sank into his desire.

He heard a soft noise that he thought was pleasure until Laurent broke the kiss and looked over Damianos’ shoulder. His expression was tender and pained.

“Nikandros. Nik…”

Damianos looked over and realized that the noise had not been one of pleasure from Laurent but one of pain from Nik. His dark head was turned away, half-shielding his expression though Damianos could tell he was tense and upset.

“Nik.” He also turned in alarm but Laurent was faster.

Laurent was slow and gentle as he took Nik’s face in his hands and Damianos’ heart just about broke at the expression on his _agapetós’_ face.

“Tell me.” Laurent’s tone was not an aggressive command, more of a plea.

“I cannot.” Nik whispered. “It’s nothing.”

“Nikandros, don’t lie.”

“You can have each other. It is alright.” It didn’t sound alright.

“It is useless without you.” Laurent replied, indignant.

“I don’t understand.” Damianos said, distressed over Nik’s obvious pain.

“I will go.” Nik tried to turn but Laurent grasped him by the arm.

“Don’t go, please. Damianos, tell him to stay.”

“Nik, stay.” Nik gave him a look that seemed torn between heartbreak and betrayal. “Why do you want to leave?” He simply assumed that the three of them would be sharing intimacies together; it would not be the first time and he remembered their last time with Lykaios. _Remembered Nik’s elegant, bare form perched on his balcony_.

Nik looked at Laurent. “For some reason…I cannot bear the thought. I cannot bear…knowing that I am not…loved.” Laurent took a moment to process this statement and then looked on in slowly dawning horror.   

“N-Not loved? I…” It took him a moment to recover. “Damianos what in the name of the gods is your relationship with him?”

“We are friends.” Nik insisted.

“Do you care for him?” Laurent ignored Nik completely as he stared at Damianos, daring him to try and lie.

“O-Of course I care for him! He is my _agapetós_ , my most beloved.” Damianos said as Nik turned bright red and Laurent glanced between the two of them. “He is…” He could not even describe his feelings for Nik. They were too deep.

“Do you love him?” Laurent asked.

“Yes.” Damianos spoke his heart without thinking.

Nik was staring at him, his mouth half open in disbelief.

Damianos was viscerally reminded of how he knew those lips intimately: the feel of Nik’s lips against his own, the soft shuddering breaths of them when someone touched him just so, the taste of his shy tongue. He and Nik had shared countless lovers and the lovers went but Nik stayed constant.

“ _Agapetós_?” Nik asked, searching Damianos’ face. His dark eyes were gleaming.

“You call him this?” Laurent asked in disbelief. “You call him most beloved and yet there is a question of his feelings?” He looked to Nik, questioning how he could have misinterpreted such a tender nickname.

“H-He has never said…s-such a thing aloud.” Nik blinked once, a single tear running down his cheek before he could catch it. Laurent turned to Damianos in horror.

“You have never called him ‘beloved’ aloud?”

Damianos thought frantically back, already distressed by Nik’s tears, and could not remember if he had ever called Nik ‘ _agapetós_ ’ aloud. “I had thought…I had thought it was obvious.” Laurent pinched the bridge of his nose at this pronouncement and took a moment to process the madness he was hearing.

“Gods save me…I have fallen in love with a pair of fools.”

“How am I at fault in all of this?” Nik asked, half-argumentative, half amused. More tears spilled when he blinked and he clutched Damianos’ wrist as Damianos wiped them away with his thumb. He made a soft noise of relief and Damianos ached to embrace him.

“Have you ever told Damianos of your affections?”

Damianos and Laurent both fixed Nik with an expectant stare that made him blush and squirm. “No, I-I have not.” If it was even possible, Nik burned redder as Laurent rolled his eyes so far back in his head, he must have seen his own mind. “I-It was not…I could not bring myself to…”

“Oh for _fuck’s_ sake!” Laurent groaned. “You both are entirely useless.”  

“You love me?” Damianos felt like he was swelling with inner sunlight. “You love me past friendship?”

Nik was all but trembling under Damianos’ fingertips and he seemed reluctant to say it aloud. “I am afraid,” he whispered, “I-I…do not want to…to lose what we have.” Damianos rubbed Nik’s cheeks with his thumbs, trying to help him relax and he was vaguely aware of Laurent stroking Nik’s fingers in a show of reassurance. It took him a moment to build up the courage to speak and when he did his voice was very small. “I have…loved you since we were…young. I f-feel I will…be _torn apart_ , I love you so.”   

Damianos smiled, using one hand to clear Nik’s braids from his face. “You did so well, my _agapetós_ .”       

Laurent grinned as Nik lost his composure and the tears came unrelenting. Damianos held him carefully as Laurent used his shirtsleeves to wipe the tears away. “I knew it. You are both so beautiful, it seemed impossible you could not love each other. I knew--”

“Must you gloat?” Nik asked with a watery laugh.

Laurent narrowed his eyes before pulling Nik’s head to his own and kissing him breathless. He used his thumb to help lick the corner of his lips, as if he wanted to savor every trace of Nik. “For someone so concerned with being overly familiar, you certainly seem comfortable interrupting me.”

“Laurent,” Damianos took one hand from Nik so he could cradle Laurent’s cheek, “you are…fine with the both of us? You know my affections and…I saw you with Nik on the practice sands,” they both blushed furiously and Nik whispered something that might have been ‘sneaky’, “and I wonder if you are willing to accept the both of us?”

“You really do need a Veretian on hand to make feelings explicit, don’t you?” Laurent smiled and it was enough to rob Damianos of breath. “I have kissed you both, invited the two of you to my rooms, worn nothing more than my undergarments, kissed you both _again_ , and yet you question me.”     

“You can admit we are attractive beyond measure and that the ache in your head has, as of late, settled further south.” Nik seemed to have been emboldened by Damianos accepting his love and moved so his forehead was pressed against Laurent’s.

“Love has made you bold.” Laurent whispered and Damianos felt cool fingers on the inside of his wrist. “Kiss your king and I’ll give you an answer.”

Damianos did not have to be told twice.

He took Nik’s jaw in his hand and kissed him like he had always kissed him.

Nik had been his first kiss at eleven underneath the shade of a mango tree. Though they were not in the same spot, the memory was so tangible to Damianos that Nik’s tongue still tasted faintly to him of ripe mangoes. His hands twisted softly in Nik’s braids and he nipped softly at Nik’s lower lip as Laurent spoke.

His voice seemed choked with desire--at least Damianos hoped that was what it was.

“Fine. I admit it.” Laurent’s voice was husky and Damianos felt his gaze like warm sunlight. “I dream of you, I wake up to the sight of light on your skin, and the smell of you on me. I am so full of desire and magic, I shudder with it and my baths boil with it. Do you know what I feel when I feel you kiss me? When I watch you kiss each other? Enough, _please_.”

Nik pulled back first and Damianos felt their eyes go to Laurent at the same time. His blue eyes seemed to glow.

“Please. I need--.”

Damianos and Nik did not let him finish.

Out of deference for his king, Nik let Damianos kiss Laurent’s lips while Nik bowed his head to Laurent’s neck. The feeling made Laurent open his mouth wider, gasping in pleasure, and Damianos cupped Laurent’s back, pulling him flush against the two of them.

Laurent made helpless noises as Damianos trailed his lips down and sucked softly on Laurent’s collarbone. This position was clearly superior, because he could watch as Laurent tilted Nik’s chin down and slipped his clever tongue past Nik’s lips. Nik closed his eyes at the feeling and placed his hand gently on the back of Laurent’s neck.

Dark hands slid easily down the gaping neck and up the hem of Laurent’s paper-thin shirt and the three of them were struck by the same idea the moment Damianos and Nik’s hands touched the soft skin beneath.

“Bed?” Damianos asked. Hopefully the prince’s bed would be big enough to accommodate three.

“Bed,” Nik gasped and the two of them all but ran as Laurent dragged them deeper into his rooms.

 


	13. The Virgin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! My favorite to indulge in: sex scenes!  
> To be honest, writing 3 people is hard haha it can be hard for it not to just be a tangle of thoughts and limbs. I gave it my best shot ;)  
> Also I have decided based on no empirical evidence that: A. Laurent is a scratcher, B. Damen will only suck hickeys on Laurent and will only bite Nik (gotta make them feel special), C. Nik can be a shy lover. Together the 3 of them are so soft.  
> I hope you enjoy!

**13\. The Virgin**

There was a subtle and delicate art to bedding two people at once.

The trick was to temper one’s desires, if only for a few moments, to know when to hold back and just watch. Damianos held back from where he lounged on Laurent’s massive bed, watching as Laurent and Nik gasped into each other’s mouths, pulling at their bedclothes with clawed hands.

Nik inhaled softly as Damianos began to slide his shirt up his back and he blushed, pulling away from Laurent. “It will be easier this way.” Damianos said, laughing through thick lust. “Unless you’d like to rip the clothes from your body.”

“ _ Yes _ .” Laurent sounded delighted at the very idea, his wide eyes shining.

Damianos obliged him, tearing through his thin undershirt as if it was made of paper. It hung limply around his torso and Laurent watched it, almost hypnotized. He slid his gauzy pants off as he stared and both Damianos and Nik groaned as they remembered what kind of blessings the gods had bestowed on Laurent’s backside.

“Gods, I had forgotten.” Nik said, fisting his hands in the fabric near his crotch.

“And I as well.” Damianos clapped him on the shoulder, not even bothering to try and hide his arousal. 

“What?” Laurent asked.

“Would you turn around, Laurent?” Damianos asked, knowing Nik would never be so bold as to ask. Laurent, though confused, turned and Damianos did all he could to keep from clutching his heart. “Goddess of love, this ass is a work of art.”

“Damianos, for fuck’s sake.” Nik groaned as Laurent dissolved into delighted laughter. 

“I told you to call me ‘Damen’ when we’re in bed.” Damianos scolded him.

“You have been in bed together before, Damen?” Laurent asked. At least he caught on quicker than Nik.

“Yes, we have shared lovers several times.” Damen said quickly. “May I touch your ass?”

“I wouldn’t have removed my pants if I didn’t want you to touch me. I suppose--ah!” He shuddered as Damen cupped his right ass cheek, “I suppose we can unpack your ridiculous relationship later.  _ Oh Nik _ !” He trembled again as Nik touched his other cheek. 

They held him, cupped him, lost their fingers in the soft acres of his white flesh and Laurent shed his shirt so they could slide their hands up his bare, slender waist. 

“I have never seen its’ equal.” Damen said, slipping his fingers down low, shivering with delicious pleasure as Laurent bucked his hips. “And so  _ sensitive _ .”

“Are you a virgin, Your--Laurent?” Nik asked; he was always brilliant with discerning these kinds of things. 

“That is… _ ah _ ! Quite enough c-commentary. Or are you both content with groping me for the rest of the night?” Laurent tried to sound like it was an imposition but his body was giving him away. The front of him was dripping onto the sheets and Nik and Damen leaned forward to survey him with mouthwatering interest. 

“Like those summer mangoes.” Nik murmured. “So ripe that the juice bleeds through.” 

“Do you have a preference?” Damen asked. Usually they flipped a coin for certain honors with virgins but it seemed a bit uncouth in the current company. He wetted his lips. “I am fine with either.”

“Front.” Nik said.  _ Excellent _ .

“Laurent, let us know if you find anything distasteful.” Damen said. “We aim to please.” 

“Wha--? Oh.  _ Oh _ .” Laurent seemed to understand the general idea once Nik’s face was positioned at mouth level of Laurent’s cock. Damen, in the meantime, was delighted to have Laurent’s backside to himself. “I…have never tried…this.”  

“Please feel free to rest your weight on us.” Damen said, heart palpitating as he shifted Laurent to get a better look.

“I am heavy.” Laurent protested weakly even as he shifted so his weight was centered and stable.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Nik said dryly. He ran his fingers up the underside of Laurent’s cock and watched the tip tremble. “Once someone sat on Damen’s face so hard it broke his nose. He was inordinately pleased for months afterward so I’m sure he would be delighted if your ass blackened his eyes.”

Laurent started laughing softly and was still giggling when Damen and Nik both put tongues to him. His giggles were punctuated by gasps as Nik gave shallow licks up the length and around the head, while Damen barely flicked the tip of his tongue against Laurent’s hole. He tasted clean, lightly of his almond soap. 

But the laughter stopped the moment Nik and Damen got serious. 

As if they shared one mind, Damen jabbed his tongue inside Laurent the same moment that Nik took Laurent’s entire cock into his mouth. Damen then very nearly broke his nose again as Laurent all but slapped his hand to the back of Damen’s head, pushing his face in closer. He honestly had no complaints.

Laurent was clearly enjoying the experience as he presented himself beautifully. He shifted so he was bent even further and quite a bit of his weight was resting on Damen. Damen felt the vibrations of Laurent’s cries in his tongue and cheeks, heard Nik lapping expertly, and felt himself get even harder under his half-unlaced pants.

He had managed to inch his tongue in about halfway--and was wondering how hard Laurent would rock against him once he got the thickest part in--when Laurent’s tongue finally untied itself. Of course he had something to say. 

“You’re… _ annoyingly _ good at this.” Laurent gasped as his fists clenched in Damen’s curls. 

“Lots of practice.” Damen pulled back unwillingly, though he did like the way Laurent was slick and gaping.

“Are you…bragging?” 

“Hardly. Nik won’t let me do this to him,” Damen said with a smile and he saw Nik turn scarlet, “even though it is one of my favorite parts of bedplay. So I am brimming with excitement.”

“It feels…strange.” Nik countered, his tongue pulling away from Laurent’s cock so that he could defend himself. 

“Oddly you are the only one who has ever complained.” Damen licked the curve of Laurent and was rewarded with Nik’s heated gaze and a shudder from Laurent.

“ _ I  _ am not complaining,” Laurent interrupted breathlessly, perhaps cursing himself for being the one to start argumentative commentary in the first place, “so if you wish to continue, by all means…” 

“Apologies for the delay. But it was you that started this conversation.” Damen shifted the ample flesh aside so he could slide his tongue back where it belonged. 

Laurent visibly pressed his lips together and Damen could see him refusing to make a single noise of pleasure out of spite.

As Nik and Damen licked him, Laurent leaned down and grasped Nik’s braids on his scalp, holding on tight. He did not moan, his stubborn lips still firmly shut, but he did quiver in  _ vibrato _ ; it was as if the soft noises that could not escape were boiling inside of him and causing these tremors.

It only made Damianos want to try harder, to hear him cry out in pleasure. 

The longer the two of them pleasured him, the faster Laurent rocked his hips between their two mouths. He seemed torn between pushing Damen’s tongue deeper inside of him and burying himself deeper into Nik’s mouth, so he just thrust faster in quick twitches. 

So close to pleasure, he could not hold back the soft, desperate whimpers that spilled from behind his tightly clenched teeth. 

He re-adjusted his hands, taking a larger handful of both Nik’s braids and Damen’s curls, gripping them as tightly as if they were the only things anchoring him to the earth.

“ _ No, no, no  _ N-Nik, i-it’s happening, I’m coming--oh, you have to l-let  _ go _ !” 

Nik’s eyes crinkled in delight and he did not let go; Damen saw he was doing that wonderful thing with his throat where it felt like the warmth and tightness would never end and the receiver of this technique could see his cock pushing at the top of Nik’s neck. Damen felt his own dribble at just the memory of the feeling and Laurent let out a thin shriek through his orgasm.

He bent over, wrapping both arms around Nik’s head as his legs shook, and Damianos responded to Laurent bending over by allowing a single finger to join his tongue. Laurent jolted again, his arms shaking now. 

“ _ Please _ !” Perhaps he had hoped to sound more commanding, but the sound came from him in a thin, desperate cry. “Damen!”

Damen pulled back, finger and tongue hot, as Laurent sank against Nik’s shoulders. Nik grinned at Damen triumphantly. “I always told you I was better at sucking cock than you.” Damen rose to the bait, remembering countless times when Nik had cried out just as Laurent had. 

“I’ll wager you on it. First one to make him--.”

“First of all,” Laurent gasped, “I am literally right here. Second of all…any arguments…you make are utterly…pointless.” Nik leaned up to kiss Laurent’s perspiring temple and Laurent took a deep shuddering breath. “Because I am…better than either of you.”    

Damen and Nik both laughed at his absolute confidence for someone who was a virgin. But they supposed only time would tell as they would not have a virgin lift a finger on his first time in bed; he need to only lie back and tell them of his pleasure.

Still Nik was too quick to begin, sitting up before Laurent could brace himself and he fell unsteadily into the massive pile of feather pillows. He laughed at Nik’s horror, his body spots of pink amidst the white bedding.

“Nik. Nik, it’s alright. I’m quite enjoying the view from here.”

Laurent took a deep, steadying breath the moment both Nik and Damen removed their trousers. He tried to look cool and calm but his flushed ears and cheeks gave him away. “Oh gods. Must everything about the two of you be…larger than life?”

“We need not put anything…in.” Damen said. He knew a litany of other pleasurable things they could do for the rest of the night. “It is your decision.”

“How on earth is it not painful?” Laurent’s eyes were latched onto them.

“We are professionals.” Nik replied joking at first. Then he must have found the deep well of emotion he had carefully reserved for Laurent and he reached out to clear Laurent’s hair from his face. “We…will be so gentle with you.”   

“I have no doubt.” Laurent whispered, overcome. He seemed carefully relaxed as Damen and Nik moved closer to him. “Can I…may I touch them?” Damen was more than delighted to indulge him and both he and Nik gasped a little as Laurent touched them. “You’re so warm. Easy…” He rubbed only a little, perhaps taking note of the fact that the both of them were seconds away from being brought to completion by a simple touch. “How does…how will it work with three of us?” 

Damen could barely focus on anything other than the feeling of Laurent’s hand around him so Nik was forced to take the lead. “How would you-- _ gods _ \--how would you like us to--?” He could not get the rest of the idea out because Laurent did something clever with his hands and Nik nearly bit his own tongue.

As he stroked them in that torturous slow way of his, Laurent eventually decided he wanted to be on the receiving end and let Damen and Nik debate on who would be first. Nik, always accommodating, offered to let Damen make love to Laurent first and Laurent looked concerned.

Surprisingly, it was not over the logistics of fitting the entirety of Damen’s cock inside of him.

Sweetly, it was for Nik. “And you will just sit idle? I want you as well.”

Nik smiled and kissed Laurent on the lips. “Who says I’ll be idle? As if I could keep my hands off of either of you.” Laurent seemed absolutely stunned when he realized that Damen would be more than happy to let Nik mount him while he was pleasuring Laurent.

“He’s very good, I assure you.” Damen said joyfully as Nik and Laurent turned the color of summer strawberries. He honestly preferred to be the one giving pleasure, rather than receiving but he was not going to limit himself. It would not be the first time and he did not plan for it to be the last either. 

Laurent produced a bottle of clear oil that smelled softly of apples, and so eager were all three that they oiled themselves up. Laurent raised an eyebrow as Nik did and Nik raised his right back. 

“If you honestly think I will not be…we will--I will not be sated with just the one time.”

“He is always  _ hungry  _ with lust. I often have to beat him back with my empty cock.” Damen lied and Laurent fell to helpless laughter as Nik cursed Damen for a fool.

“Insatiable.” Laurent laughed.

He was still smiling as Damen kissed him, easing him back down into the nest of pillows. Laurent hooked his leg up on Damen’s hip and Damen honestly did not recall turning Laurent so that his plush behind was pressed against Damen’s crotch. It was tantalizingly slick and Damen groaned low with anticipation and pleasure as Nik settled into him, hot as the midday sun at his back. 

With Laurent it was much slower going. 

He was so tight to begin with and Damen listened carefully to every mewl, every hitch of breath to determine whether he should continue or pause. It seemed like ages before he was buried to the hilt and Laurent gripped him like he would not let go. Laurent made no noise but his skin trembled as Damen moved even a little. 

“I-It’s… _ big _ .” Laurent gasped. 

Damen pressed his head into the soft skin of Laurent’s neck and Laurent gripped thick handfuls of his curls as he pushed back. When Damen pulled out--inch by inch--Laurent keened a little and got himself a mouthful of Damen’s hair. 

Nik moved too and it must have caused some movement in Damen’s hips and Laurent reached back over Damen’s shoulder to dig his fingernails into Nik’s skin. He missed and had to settle for a handful of braids.

“How is it?” Nik asked, breathless from behind Damen.

“He’s… _ wonderful _ .” Damen said. Laurent clenched hot and tight around him and he thought his hips might melt.

“Not you,” Nik laughed, “I’m asking Laurent.”

“I cannot… _ think _ !” Laurent moaned. Nik thrust shallowly into Damen, causing a resulting tremor in Laurent and Laurent raked his nails in five clean lines down Damen’s bicep. “Please…keep--there!” Damen indulged him and shuddered a little himself as Nik slid out to the tip. 

He relished the feeling of being inside of Laurent, of being full of Nik. When Laurent had adjusted to his size, Damen used his free hand to rest on one of Nik’s beautifully muscular buttocks and pushed it, establishing a rhythm to their lovemaking. 

When Damen began to move with him, slowly at first, it became clear that Laurent was a scratcher.

As Damen began to pull out farther and thrust back in with great slaps to Laurent’s backside Laurent dug his nails in and left shallow scratches in his lover’s skin.

It created a soft burn of pain that only enhanced the warm waves of pleasure. Damen didn’t mind at all; he wore scars with pride and could hardly judge, since he was fond of suckling and biting in the heat of the moment. 

He suckled intently, saving his bite for Nik, as the three of them moved together in oiled synchrony. 

Laurent came first, orgasm seeming to catch him by surprise, and Damen hissed into the bruising skin of Laurent’s white neck as the prince drew blood with his fingernails. Damen slapped Nik’s ass as Laurent fell limp in his arms and Nik set a quicker pace from behind, his breath coming in warm gasps against Damen’s back.

Damen’s thighs were shaking as Nik gasped his name and pulled out completely, a drip of heat stretching wet across Damen’s hips. “ _ Damen _ .” The name, tender with love, made Damen feel like his entire body was pulsing. 

“ _ Agapetós. _ ” Nik moaned softly as Damen whispered that beloved nickname in response.

And his delight was boundless when he found his own release inside of Laurent, causing the prince to spasm again in his arms with a second orgasm. He was a complete and utter natural at being loved.

Laurent panted in his arms and Nik rested his slick forehead against Damen’s back, but Damen was not at all spent. In fact, while he turned to kiss Nik and Laurent in turns, he thought about how he would never like to leave the bed. Still, he was courteous enough to let his lover’s heartbeats settle to a slower rhythm before he began to let his hands wander a little more and let his kisses linger. 

Nik and Laurent began to shift under his touch. 

Nik did not move until Laurent begged him in a soft voice to hold him and Damen all but threw Nik over his body. Nik melded to Laurent, their lips desperate and sloppy, while Damen watched with delight. They both trembled while touching each other: Nik’s dark fingers tracing the line of Laurent’s jaw and Laurent softly stroking the back of Nik’s arm with fingers that also seemed to blush at the tips. 

Laurent’s soft cry of delight was muffled into Nik’s neck as Nik thrust into him for the first time and Damen could hold back no longer.

He pressed himself tight against Nik’s muscular back, clearing Nik’s braids from his nape. One long arm grasped Laurent’s hot cock, causing him to buck erratically, while Damen’s other hand splayed on Nik’s chest in search for one of his dark nipples. 

As he slid himself into Nik, Damen clamped his teeth down on his favorite spot where Nik’s neck met his shoulder. 

“I cannot believe you both slept with each other, on  _ multiple _ occasions, and never once asked each other your feelings.” Laurent laughed in between deep breaths.

“Yes, yes you’re very clever,” Nik responded, his eyes still closed. “Or perhaps you might consider we don’t speak even half as often as you do. You must love the sound of your own voice.” He grunted as Laurent tugged on one of his braids.

Damen just smiled down at the both of them.

He liked how Laurent and Nik rested against him as they cooled off from their lovemaking. They leaned against his flanks, Laurent with his head on Damen’s heart and Nik with his face pressed into Damianos’ neck. Their fingers were linked across Damen’s chest and Laurent’s thumb was rubbing Nik’s knuckles. Fingers were tangled in hair, Damen rubbing their scalps until the hair raised on his lover’s arms. 

“Are you Veretians able to pause time?” Nik asked, still a little breathless.

“I wish.” Laurent’s voice was equally soft as he smiled into Damen’s skin. “Time is just…one of those forces that even magic cannot control. But, rest assured, I could stay here for ages.” Damen pulled him closer to kiss his forehead.

Nik grumbled low in his chest until Damen kissed him too.

Laurent’s smiled dampened a little as he clearly thought through their situation. “If only…I think it will be hard for me to let you both go when morning comes.” It was more than that. Laurent was not the type to be selfish and ask them outright to stay but Damen knew Laurent was subtly telling him of how he did not want them to go.

Nik leaned over Damen’s chest and squeezed Laurent’s hand. “What if the solution for Vere and your brother is simple but…it may take a great deal of bravery from you and your people.”

“I can make no guarantees of my countrymen--you saw how the councilors cannot even execute a man guilty of using blood magic and hurting children. However, I am open to all suggestions.” His eyes were wide and hopeful.   

Nik bit his full bottom lip. “What if…what if you just took away the barrier? Wake Auguste up and take the barrier away. Bring Vere back into the world and…get your brother back.”

Laurent exhaled sharply and took a moment to compose an answer. “It was supposed to be me. The way the barrier is held is a close-guarded secret and it was supposed to be me keeping it up. I was better than Auguste with magic and I had always…prided myself on it. When he found out what would happen…he took my place. He was--he is always trying to protect me and…”

Laurent trailed off into silence and Damen pulled him close, rubbing his temple with his thumb. “We can help protect Vere…and you. Now that we have made such great strides in our diplomacy.”

“Diplomacy?” Laurent laughed. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“He’s a scoundrel, isn’t he?” Nik laughed as well and yelped as Damianos leaned down to bite his shoulder. “I have…grown fond of this type of diplomacy. And I agree with Damianos--.”

“Damen.”

“I agree with Damen. Akielos could offer trade with Vere and we could help you with your naval defenses.”

“How selfless of you.” Laurent was being saucy but Damen could see him thinking carefully.

“We could see you again.” He whispered into Laurent’s almond-scented hair. “We could have this, have you for more than the time we have left. I cannot  _ bear _ the thought that…if we leave we might not be able to return.”

“Nor I.” Nik whispered.

Laurent blinked, curling up a bit under the combined force of Nik and Damen’s desire and love for him. “I…I will think about it. It would be…an enormous change and it would take a skillful argument to convince my people.”

“An easy thing under the hands of a skillful king.” Damen said, grinning. 

Before they could get a good look at his flushed cheeks, Laurent buried his face in Damen’s pectoral. Damen wondered if it was the first time someone had ever called him a ‘king’. “Switch me places, Damen.” He demanded. “I feel…safer between the two of you.” Damen and Nik obliged immediately.

Laurent sighed in contentment when he was finally nestled between them--Damen pressed against his back and Nik holding him from the front. Their legs intertwined until Damen didn’t know who he was touching. Damen heard Laurent kiss Nik’s forehead, felt Nik’s fingers trail down his flank, and he kissed Laurent’s neck while he rubbed Nik’s braids.

They fell asleep like that, braided together.

 


	14. The Exhilaration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who ordered more soft loving??? Well here it is!   
> I also may have mentioned it in previous comments but I love how all three of them have gotten each other but most of the comments are like 'YESSS NIK GETS WHAT HE DESERVES'. Haha it's just what I wanted; I'm so glad you are all on board. He needs all of the kisses now and forevermore.  
> Also big news in my life, tomorrow is my last day at my current job and hopefully it will give me to finish up this story with plenty of time to spare!   
> Enjoy!

******14\. The Exhilaration**

For all that Laurent, Damen, and Nik had been laced within an inch of their lives the first few weeks of their acquaintance, they balanced it out by remaining mostly naked in the days following their first time lovemaking. Even Damen, as much as he enjoyed strutting about unclothed and making love at will, felt that they were being a bit too lush. 

Of course he waited until after Nik and Laurent had finished thrusting into each other’s mouths to volunteer a change of exercise.

“Did you have…anything particular in mind?” Nik asked after Laurent had rolled his hips off of Nik’s face. “I…I am not sure I would be able to stand long enough to spar.” 

“If you prefer to sit, we could go horseback riding.” Laurent joked, his face half-muffled by pillows. Nik grunted at the thought and bit two matching crescents into the curve of Laurent’s ass cheek.  

“If we can refrain until morning,” Damen had to force himself to look away from Laurent’s bruise-covered backside and the slick sheen of Nik’s dark cock, “we could go sailing.”

“It is forbidden by Veretian law to go to the beaches without proper reason.” Laurent said, brow furrowed.

“By whose orders?” Nik asked, with a quick smile in Damen’s direction.

Laurent narrowed his eyes at Nik, knowing very well that it was the king who decided such things. Damen decided to chime in as well. “The proper reason is that you are showing your diplomats to their ship.” 

“Supervising us, if you will.” Nik added.

“And if we happen to kidnap you and drag you aboard our ship, you can blame it on our irresistible charm and impressive musculature.” Damen said, landing a kiss on Laurent’s ear when the prince turned to roll his eyes. “If you need, we can decide in the morning.”

It was a struggle not to make love one more time but Damen held back at the potential to sail.

In the morning, Laurent thought over Damen’s proposal for a few moments before the natural wickedness in him took over. His smile was wide and Nik got a kiss on his other ear. “Fine. Let’s do it.” Damen and Nik both lit up with twin smiles and Laurent turned scarlet. “I-is there anything I’ll  _ need _ ?”

Damen thought he looked like he needed his ass eaten over the railings of the ship but he imagined Nik might have a difficult time steering with an erection.

“Some of those waterproof clothes of yours.” Nik said quickly, as if he had been considering something similar. “And perhaps something with a bit of ginger? To keep the seasickness at bay.”

Laurent was all too excited to go out and make preparations and Nik turned a suspicious eye to Damen.

“What?”

“Don’t even think about it.” Nik said through disbelieving laughter. “I have seen you nearly crash ships for many reasons, but I refuse to be stranded here because you  _ had _ to take our lover over a barrel.”

“I would never.”

“You lie!” Nik protested. “He is…too lovely--mmph!” Damen interrupted by kissing Nik full on the mouth. 

“Lovely  _ and _ clever, the both of you.” Damen said before slapping Nik’s ass. “Come on then. Let’s go sailing.”

All three of them were clearly overjoyed at the idea of going out to sea because it was only about a quarter of an hour later that they were all together down in the royal stables of Arles. Laurent had saddled three spirited horses for them to ride to the beaches.

If any of the soldiers guarding the gates of the palace had questions or concerns about where their prince and his guests were going, they wisely kept their mouths shut. Their loyalties had shifted easily and they knew who was in charge. 

Into the forest they went and Damen had to resist the urge to have his horse break into a canter through the trees and over the tangled mess of roots. Both he and Nik allowed Laurent to pass them. 

“You have a fine posture while riding a horse, Laurent.” Nik complimented.

“It’s rude that you refer to Damen like that.” Laurent responded and Damen thought Nik was choking on his tongue, he was laughing so hard. Laurent was also shaking silently, spurred on by the sight of  Nik’s handsome face lighting up with laughter.

“Alright, alright, you both are  _ wildly _ funny.” Damen said sarcastically.

Laurent continued to laugh a little more, allowing himself to sway along with the horse. Damen’s mouth was too dry to come up with a witty retort.

Laurent allowed them to catch up once they reached the sparkling strip of black sand, letting them pass perhaps for fear of the beach. Veretian horses also seemed to dislike the shifting nature of the sands so they tied them off at the edge of the forest. 

At least the ship was still serene and untouched, with the pale gray waves lapping against its’ hull. 

Laurent watched carefully as Damen and Nik hauled themselves aboard and followed them shortly after.

Laurent began to walk the length and breadth of the ship, muttering to himself as he inspected the railings and the mast. “I…it’s so complicated. How does it work? How will we get it from the beach? It seems too heavy to move.” Damen was touched by his obvious interest and was reasonably sure that if Laurent was left to his own devices, he would pull the ship apart just to see how everything worked.

“With ships this small often two men can be enough to push it into the sea.” Nik explained. “But a larger ship requires high tides or a port to weigh anchor. With you on board, it’s more than enough to give us a push into the surf.”  

“Of course, I have to do everything,” Laurent laughed, though Damen saw his fingers shaking. “ _ Wait _ .”

“Take your time.” Damen understood he was nervous looking out at the endless stretch of water that had served as a terrifying barrier for so long. “Nik, do you have the compass with you?”

“Which way will we go?” Laurent asked, his eyes wider than usual. 

“Whichever direction you’d like.” Nik said. He almost smashed the compass into Damen’s head as Damen bit his bare shoulder. “If you scar me again, I swear to the gods…” Damen, completely unrepentant, slapped his ass.  

Laurent’s magic was subtle, the water around their ship rising a little after each rush of the tides. The sands began to slide under the hull and Laurent stared so far over the railings, Damen was worried he was going to fall overboard before they even got past the surf. Nik watched him carefully, perhaps having the same thought. 

When the ship was floating a little easier and they were approaching the rougher waves of the Veretian shore, Laurent finally stepped back, cautious over the violence of the ocean.

“Laurent!” Damen called him over and was happy to note that the salt spray was curling the tips of his pale hair. “Nik has the sails. Do you want to steer us through the waves? I’ll be right behind you,” he amended when he saw Laurent’s shoulders tense.

Still, he took the wheel and schooled his expression to calm assuredness. “You offered this to me, so you can only curse yourself if the ship sinks below the waves.”

“I have absolute confidence in you.” Damen said. “Just take these waves head on.”

“Duly noted.” Laurent’s focus was extreme and Nik smiled up at him from where he was tying off the sails.

“As far as I am concerned, you are already a better sailor than Damen.”

“ _ That _ is a direct act of mutiny, by the way, and you can feel free to throw him overboard.” Damen shot back and Laurent smiled nervously. 

Laurent gripped the wood of the wheel, his eyes enormous and knuckles white, as they approached the first white-capped waves of the shore. Such rough waves surely looked daunting to a first time sailor and Damen put a reassuring hand on the small of Laurent’s back.

“Easy. Steady hands, Laurent.” He wasn’t sure if Laurent was even breathing. The wave was approaching and Nik accidentally startled Laurent when he yelled from the deck,

“Give us  _ wind _ , Laurent!”

Laurent gripped the wood, arching his back, and a massive gust of wind took the sails. The ship creaked in protest but held firm, and they all but flew over the crest of the first wave. Laurent inhaled sharply as the world seemed to fall away beneath the ship and the bow was rising toward the sky. 

Damen felt his heartbeat slow with anticipation over the inevitable. 

Laurent dug his boots into the slippery boards of the deck and Damen held him by the waist as the ship dipped back down and they were racing down the trough of the gray waves. It was always how Damen imagined flying would feel. 

“Oh, gods! Oh  _ gods _ !” Laurent was chanting it as they cut through the surf, the ocean sprawling out in front of them in an endless blue-gray expanse. “It’s _ amazing _ .” His eyes never left the sea and Damen kissed his neck.

“Go down to Nik. I can steer if you want to go stand by the bow.”

Laurent nodded in a daze, stepping out of the protective circle of Damen’s arms and stumbling into the railing. Feeling cheeky, Damen turned hard to port and laughed as Laurent almost lost his balance and had to dig his nails into the wood like a startled ship cat. 

He only tore his eyes away to glare.

“I won’t do anything else, I swear.” Damen promised. “Go to Nik.”

Despite his shaky start, Laurent seemed to have gotten his sea legs as he ran across the deck. Nik tied off the sails just in time to open his arms and Laurent all but threw himself against Nik’s body. 

Damen watched in soft delight as Nik half-carried Laurent to the bow of the ship and held him carefully by the hips as Laurent seemed intent to lean out as far as he could. Nik said something to him and Laurent threw his head back and laughed in delight.

How could the Veretians be so frightened of their own nature? It was clear that their prince was born for sea and salt and wind. 

“How far can we go Damen?” Laurent called back.

_ All the way to Ios, where you can rest easy with us,  _ Damen thought fondly. “As far as you want to go.”

The sea was smoother past the shores and, though Laurent first hugged the shores as he took turns steering, he soon became bolder and sailed towards the western horizon. He was delightful to have on board and soon he was hoisting himself up the mast like a man born on a ship.

Also he used his magic to exhilarating effects.

Though he had said that the ocean and the weather were arcane magics that were outside the realm of Veretian control, Laurent could create strong winds. Their ship all but skipped over the surface of the water and Damen and Nik couldn’t help but whoop with joy over the speed. 

Laurent loved turning the ship, having the wheel spin in front of him, laughing as he watched Damen and Nik all but scrabble across the deck. It was hard to be angry with him when he was so beautiful and filled with joy.

His hair was windswept, whipping around his face, his shirt billowing around his neck, and his bared skin was reddening after so much exposure from the sun. 

Nik had to insist that they drop anchor so they could lay out a blanket and make love under the open sky.

“You are a hypocrite.” Damen gasped once he was able to extricate his tongue from Nik’s mouth. “After warning me not to lose myself to lust.”

Nik was glowing, curled in on himself. “I cannot  _ help _ it. Not when I cannot decide if Laurent’s ass is pink from the sun or from our hands.” Laurent snorted from where he was lying in a sliver of shade to prevent his ivory skin from burning any further. 

“Could be darker.” Damen said with an expert’s glance.

“Let Nik have a turn.” Laurent complained. 

“Mmmm.” Nik made soft puppyish noises as Damen pushed his whole weight on Nik’s body. Laurent watched them both with flushed cheeks. It was quite some time before any of them felt ready to stand or put on clothes. 

“What do you think of sailing?” Nik asked once he had gotten the feeling back in his hips and they began to pull up the anchor.

“It is  _ addictive _ .” Laurent gasped, perhaps more erotically than he had intended. “I can see why your people take to the seas. I want to do this every day, I want--” he inhaled deeply and Damen could almost see the tension rising from him into vapor, “I want to breathe this air and tan as deep as you.”

“I fear you will be in terrible pain this evening.” Nik’s voice was tinged with concern over seeing Laurent’s bare skin so red. 

“We have tinctures to handle this.” Laurent smiled back at him. “Or are you jealous that something other than you or Damen has marked my skin?” Nik threw a wet rope at him and Damen leaned against the steering wheel he was laughing so hard.

Despite all of his bravado and teasing, Laurent did wince as Damen helped him from the ship. 

“Gods, I’m not sure how I’ll explain this to my councilors.” He said as he stretched his lean shoulders, grimacing all the while. Damen pressed a soft kiss to his neck in response.

“Saliva is actually an excellent balm for this.”

Laurent rolled his eyes but he was more than happy to have Nik and Damen try to soothe his burns the moment they got to the privacy of Laurent’s rooms.

When Damen woke up, Laurent was still asleep against Nik’s flank but Nik was awake, his head in his hands. His braids spilled over his fingers and Damen resisted the urge to stroke them. Instead, he gently wrapped his arms around Nik’s waist and kissed his rib cage.

“Nik, my Nik, my  _ agapetós _ , I cannot sleep or breathe if your heart is troubled.”

Nik trembled and Damen kissed him again. “Damianos,” Damen felt cold then, even pressed against Nik’s warm skin; something was terribly wrong, “we only have ten days left.”

Damen felt ill then, their time limit coming back to him in a sickening rush. 

If they wanted to get back to Ios in time to save the city, then they would need to leave in a little over a week. Quite naturally, his gaze shifted to Laurent who had nuzzled his sweet face into Nik’s hip. 

“We do not have a way to save the city.” Nik said, finally looking over at him. His face was gaunt, likely from lack of sleep. 

“I do not want to leave him.” 

“Nor do I,” Nik whispered, leaning over slowly so he could rest his head in Damen’s hands. “But…”

“The lives of thousands of our people are depending on us.” Damen was not a man used to making difficult sacrifices but…there was a reason he had been chosen as king. “We cannot let them die.”

“Then we must begin preparations to…to go home.” Nik agreed. At the time, Damen was relieved Laurent was still asleep because Nik’s eyes became a little watery. His heart had always been tender and and Damen pressed Nik’s against his shoulder. 

As he stroked the braids close to Nik’s scalp, he felt liquid warmth running down the skin of his chest.   

As Laurent shifted in his sleep, it never occurred to Damen that Laurent could be awake and listening. 

That afternoon, he and Nik steeled themselves and contacted Pallas from where he was balls deep in Lazar down in the soldiers barracks. Lazar, normally so good-humored, looked at Damen and Nik with barely disguised distrust. His hand lingered on Pallas’ dark skin as if he ached to pull him back into bed and keep him there indefinitely. Damen definitely understood the sentiment.

Pallas was just as downcast as he, Nik, and Damen made preparations with the kitchen for non-perishable supplies. And though Lazar could not bear to see the supplies ordered, he did help Pallas load them up onto horses so that they could bring them out to their ship. Just having Laurent in power and Lazar with them allowed their group to pass through the gates without issue.

It did not occur to Damen that Laurent might have been listening to his and Nik’s conversation until the evening. 

Laurent looked exhausted at dinner and actually fell asleep amongst his pillows after orgasming from Nik sucking at his nipples. Nik looked up at Damen as he tucked Laurent against him. 

“Why is he so tired?”

“I wonder…” Damen said, stroking Laurent’s hair. He knew that Laurent was intelligent enough to remember their time limit and wondered if Laurent was exhausting himself so that he did not have to remember. 

His suspicions only deepened as he woke the next morning and found Laurent gone from the bed before the sun was even up. The slippery prince must have used magic to hide himself because Nik and Damen did not see him until well after their midday meal.

Laurent staggered into the room, pale as bones, and gave Damen and Nik a weak apologetic smile after they kissed him.

“Are you alright?” Nik asked.

Laurent handed over a cut glass bottle of what looked like golden powdered stardust, his hands trembling as he did so. He looked so spent that Nik placed a steadying hand on Laurent’s slim back to keep him from toppling over. 

“It has taken…several days and most of my magic but I have found a way to save Ios from disaster.”

Damen had been holding the bottle with one hand but the moment he thought of how much magic was within and the importance of it all, he gripped it with both hands, holding it close to his chest. The glass was likely magicked to keep it from breaking but he did not want to drop it and find out.

“How did you discover this?” 

Laurent had taken advantage of Nik’s open arms and was all but draped across him, like some fainting maiden. “My uncle kept some of the most arcane books on magic hidden away in his personal library. Though the method is…draining, I think it will save your city.” He smiled as Nik rubbed the back of his neck. 

“How do we use the magic?” Nik asked. 

“When you are within sight of the port, simply remove the wax seal. My magic will escape and I’ll rescue you.” He looked so pleased with himself over the thought.

“But we have not gotten your brother out of his stasis.” Damen protested.

Laurent smiled and it begged for a kiss. “But…you’ve already given me so much. My uncle is gone and I can rest easy at night.” Damen lifted Laurent’s palm to his mouth and kissed it. His heart was thick in his throat. 

Even so, with all of Laurent’s generosity, Damen still wanted more. 

He wanted Laurent, all of Laurent, wanted Laurent to be at his and Nik’s side for so much longer. He would not let his people die but…he wanted Laurent with them.  It was clear Nik was also distraught and it made him bolder than usual.

“Will you wake Auguste?” Laurent looked at him in shock and Nik whispered, “Will we see you again?”

Nik reached out to touch his face and Laurent held it there with his eyes closed. He was memorizing the feeling of Nik’s hands on him but he could not look at Nik when he opened his eyes. Damen was transfixed, breathless with all the pain in Laurent’s eyes.

“Will you still--will you stay with me if I tell you that…I don’t know?”

Damen could not formulate a proper response.

His heart remained unchanged for both Laurent and Nik and for Ios. He could only join Nik in holding Laurent. 


	15. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the late update but I had such a busy day yesterday! I wasn't able to stop for 5 minutes to update haha! But here I am now! Only 3 chapters left and I figured it was time for a big battle scene ;)  
> This scene was surprisingly easy to write (maybe because it's rare that I do a lot of fight scenes) but time is up and choices have to be made. If you've seen the Road to El Dorado, this is basically the giant jaguar part of the story and I fully intend to have another giant animal show up during the battle. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**15\. The Return**

Normally Damen and Nik would leave a several days in advance of their deadline in case they came across inclement weather. But every dawn they woke up with Laurent suctioned to them and when he woke up he would look up with shock and then relief as he clearly realized that Damen and Nik were still with him.

And they could not bear at any point during the day to work up the courage to announce their imminent departure.

In fact, it was Laurent who finally realized that Nik and Damen’s love for him was keeping them from doing what they must. The three of them were aimless and restless in Laurent’s quarters, rising before the sun.

When Laurent woke and dressed he turned so they could not see his expression. 

“You should leave by sunset.” He said. Though his voice was calm, there was an element of command to it. The tone of a king. 

“Laurent.” Even saying his name seemed to cause Nik pain.

“You have to.” Laurent insisted. “I cannot have you risk so many innocents for me.”

Damen strode over to him, knowing he was right, and held his tense, lean body. “You’re right. We’ll leave before the sun sets.” Laurent looked up at him and kept a neutral expression. His wide eyes were another matter entirely. “Laurent. I  _ love _ you.”

“We love you.” Nik amended and dug his hands into Laurent’s hair the way he liked.

Laurent squeezed his eyes shut. “You Akielons…make things so difficult.”

“Is it so hard to tell us that you love--?” Nik asked, once again cutting to the quick.

“I love you.” Laurent interrupted. His lips were trembling as Damen leaned down to them. “I love you both.”

Damen and Nik continued to pepper soft kisses on Laurent’s wet face and would have been content to do so for the rest of the day had they not been interrupted

Jord skidded into the room looking as though the ghosts of the Veretian kings had just risen from the ground and asked him for his very soul. Laurent stood, brushing at his cheeks, and schooled his expression to serenity.

“Jord.”

“Your Highness!” Jord pressed his hands against his knees and bowed his head--not from respect, but to catch his breath. Despite the obvious urgency of the situation, Laurent waited patiently until his captain caught his breath. “There is an emergency! The soldiers you have placed on guard at the beach--” he took another deep breath, color rushing back into his cheeks, “they have spotted half dozen or so foreign ships sailing towards our shores!”

Laurent’s expression darkened. It seemed almost as if he was expecting such a thing.

“Did the guards mention the colors of the sails?” Damen asked, momentarily forgetting his place as a guest. However, he was uniquely qualified when it came to dealing with fleets of mysterious ships.

Jord looked confused, chewing on his thumbnail as he tried to remember.

“The colors of the sails and the flags indicate alliances.” Nik explained quickly. “Merchant ships usually fly white or yellow sails. Military ships sail red and pirates sail under black sails. I assume we can safely say that they are not Veretian ships?”

Laurent gave him a long look and turned his attention back to Jord. “Go back to them and ask. I’ll…meet us back here once you have confirmation. And to be safe, have the soldiers prepare for potential attack.”

“At once!” Jord said, all but sprinting from the room.

Damen saw Laurent clench his fist so tight it was shaking. “Laurent, do you want our help in this? Where are you going?”

“I am going to the scrying room.” Laurent said from between gritted teeth. “Though I already know that my uncle is behind this. He has found some band of sellswords or pirates who have fallen sway to gold or mind tricks and he has shown them the way past Auguste’s defenses. He is coming back to…he has come back and if he doesn’t kill me he is going to sell me to his new friends.”

Thinking of the pirates they knew who would accept such payment, Nik and Damen made twin grimaces of fury. Damen would personally beat to death anyone who took Laurent as payment.

“Go.” Nik urged him. “Do what you must. We will try to come up with a plan.”

Just knowing that slavery was a potential option had Damen feeling a rush of anxiety as Laurent disappeared from view. Nik also seemed nervous as he began to pace and chatter to himself.

“If they are immune to magic and the beaches are often deserted then it would certainly be a disadvantage for the Veretians. The beaches are unguarded and they would never expect an attack from that angle.”

“Then we have the advantage. If it is the Regent, he may have expected us to be gone from the city and the guards have seen the ships so we have some warning. Also there is no guarantee they are immune like us.” Damen pointed out. “Nor is there any proof yet that they are hostile.”

“It is more likely than not.”

“Then we had best come up with a good plan.” Damen said. “We’ll likely have to go out to Vere’s defense.” It usually wasn’t done that way but this was a unique scenario. Laurent was not only their host but their lover and Damen was willing to burn normal diplomacy for him. “It’s a good thing we are some of the finest sailors alive.” 

“It will be hard to fit the Veretian army on our ship.”

“With a prince as ornery as Laurent, you cannot possibly have me believe that the Veretians do not have more ships stored away somewhere. They are too crafty by half.” He was rewarded momentarily by a short, genuine laugh from Nik. “Where is that fire mage when you need him?”

As if the Veretians had been listening through the walls, Jord came running back, still wheezing, followed by Pallas and Lazar. 

“Black sails!” Jord gasped without prompting. “And there are two flags, but the larger is gray with some sort of blue symbol. We have not let anyone know, lest people begin to panic.” 

“Vask.” Nik said, doubtless thinking of Vask’s slate flag with a navy battle axe. The smaller flag was likely a clan identifier, so important to the Vaskians. The black sails were another problem entirely.

Vaskian pirates were known to be the ruthless, bloodthirsty sort who razed villages to their foundations and took slaves liberally. The female-led crews had some honor and could be reasoned with, but the rangy all-male crews were no better than wild animals. Damen often felt they would trade the souls of their mothers for a handful of copper coins.

“Is it bad?” Jord asked.

Damen, Nik, and Pallas did not get a chance to answer. Laurent appeared in the doorway, simultaneously looking ashen and also burning burning with rage. “It should come to the surprise of precisely no one that my uncle is on one of those ships.”

Nik nodded pensively and Damen smiled in sadistic joy.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any ships stored away in a secret place, would you?”

Lazar’s wicked grin was more than enough as an answer.

 

The boats in question were actually magical blueprints, showing an intricate spell that would create lightweight, quick vessels for times of war. Damen had seen similar designs in the small scouting boats of Vask but he was still amazed that magic could create a boat in moments from a still-living tree. 

Laurent handed the spell blueprints over to Jord with instructions on which soldiers should be responsible for creating the vessels. 

He had been trying to keep the entire situation under wraps, so as not to incite a panic, but he had underestimated the nosiness of the pets of Arles. Clearly one of them had overheard and spread the word around the castle and now the entire place was in an uproar as Laurent and his men tried to get control of their strategy. 

They were rushing around, carrying armfuls of clothes and jewels, spreading baseless updates and being a nuisance in general. Damen passed by the redheaded pet who was using the chaos as an excuse to pretend to faint into his chagrined lover’s arms. 

“Have you fought pirates before?” Laurent asked Nik and Damen as they walked down to the soldier’s barracks. 

“Plenty.” Damen responded with pride. “Vaskian pirates as well. They are stubborn and cunning but,” he grinned back at Lazar, “wood burns.”

Lazar responded with a rush of green-blue fire across his knuckles and a cackle of joy but Laurent ignored him in favor of nodding. “I understand. I would…I would never presume to ask an honored guest to put their life on the line for us. But if you would please offer my soldiers any information you can, it would prove invaluable.” 

Nik coughed to hide a laugh of disbelief. “Forgive me if I am out of line, Laurent, but…”

He paused too long and Damen cheerfully took over. “You need not forgive me. I’ll speak my mind as I see fit: you will have to lash me to the castle to keep me from joining in this battle. I will not see your city overrun so soon after we have gotten it into the proper hands. I have not had a proper sea battle in too long and they will not know what has hit them.”

Laurent smiled back at him, his nervousness disappearing in the face of love. “I will leave the sea unit in your capable hands then.”

“We’ll split the troops in half.” Jord said sensibly, “Half can go on the ships and half can stay behind to guard the city in the…worst case scenario.” Clearly he was considering just such a thing.  _ A destroyed fleet, men in the water, and a city in chaos. The enemy coming. _

“Surely a riot in the city will not help the situation.” Laurent agreed. “And if those pets don’t shut their mouths, I should have them man the front lines.”

“Can your men swim?” Nik asked with Jord’s negativity clearly influencing him.

“We can float.” Lazar said, still playing with his fire. “I wouldn’t be opposed to any of you three rescuing us.” Jord rolled his eyes and he, Lazar, and Pallas moved past quickly down the last flight of stairs to the soldiers barracks. 

Damen caught Laurent’s arm before he could follow and held his face carefully in his hands. “And you? What of the prince of Vere? Where will you be in all of this?”

Despite how he knew of Laurent’s skill with swordplay, Damen did not know if he could focus on battle if he knew that Laurent was anywhere near Vaskian pirates. Laurent gripped Damen’s wrist with one hand and pulled Nik closer with the other. His eyelids fluttered closed as he took a deep breath. 

“I will also be guarding the city.” He said. “I’m going to set up a barrier around that forest and if any of those bastards get past you, I’ll destroy them.”

Damen remembered the extreme energy Laurent had put into coming up with a rescue for Ios and how much of a shade of himself he had been. Even now, he still looked a little pale and gaunt. He was not afraid of the pirates but he did feel a cold rush of fear for Laurent’s constitution.

Such a sudden loss of magic…he was worried.

“Be safe.” Nik whispered into Laurent’s hair. “Be safe or…or all of this is…useless.”

Laurent squeezed Nik’s waist before taking one of his braids and kissing it. “I will.” When he opened his eyes, they were intense. “No one’s magic is stronger than mine.” And Damen wondered if Laurent’s heart was as much in pain as his was. 

 

The beach was in chaos as Damen and Nik ran down the black sand stretch.

They left their own ship in favor of the smaller Veretian vessels. Theirs was for long voyages, not battle, and these Veretian ships looked as though they could turn like birds of prey. They lacked steering wheels and were normally steered by the rudder, the sails, and shifting weight, though in this case it would likely be wind magic that would propel them forward.

Damen, Nik, and Pallas chose to board the ship with Lazar, Jord, and a few other men and women and as soon as Damen looked to the horizon, he could see the six full sized pirate galleons sailing ever closer.

He would estimate that they were about a half hour from the shores and he clenched his teeth.

“Can you see which ship the Regent is on?” Damen asked to no one in particular. 

Of course Lazar was the one who heard and his grin took on an edge of murder. “Of course. That kind of conjuring magic is perfect for me.” He looked toward the horizon, staring without blinking. When he blinked it seemed more like he was wincing in pain and he gripped the hilt of his sword.

“Lazar?” Damen reached out to touch his shoulder and the effect was immediate.

Lazar breathed shakily and smiled up at Damen. “ _ Fuck _ but he’s strong. Almost drew my blade on you.” Damen was thrilled at the idea of drowning the Regent at that moment. “He’s on the third ship from the right.” 

As Lazar began to shout to the other soldiers to keep their mental guards up Damen fixed his gaze on the ship in question. 

Though it would be the most difficult to isolate and board, he was determined to attack that one first. Nik also stared and the rare look of hatred flashed across his face. Damen leaned over to kiss him on the mouth. 

“We’re going to kill this man.” Damen said into Nik’s mouth.

As they set sail from the shores, Nik gasped as he glanced behind him. Some kind of shimmering golden curtain seemed to rise from where the the violent sea froth met the black sand up into the sky. 

_ Laurent _ .

“No going back now!” Someone shouted from one of the other boats and the wind picked up quite suddenly. They soared over the white-capped waves, the Veretian soldiers taking to sailing as easily as breathing. 

“Wait love.” Damen heard Nik whisper to the sky. “We won’t have use for that barrier.” 

As if Laurent could hear him, the golden curtain shimmered once before falling down to the sea. Damen breathed a sigh of relief knowing that Laurent could rest his mind in the meantime. He gripped the ropes of the sails and shifted his weight so that they kept the third ship directly in front of theirs. 

It was Pallas who yelped as the water in front of their ship began to bubble violently and the sea exploded upward in a massive column.

Damen and Nik moved instinctively, leaping and thrusting their combined weight down so the boat lurched over and up. The Veretians on board scrabbled to stay on deck and the hull of the boat skimmed the column with a terrifying sound. 

“Fuck!” Lazar said cheerfully as the ship leveled out. His head was all but doused and he cleared the wet strands from his face. “I forgot he had conjuring magicians with him.” Another ship in their fleet was not so quick and all of them watched in horror as it was blasted eighty feet into the air. “ _ Fuck _ .” 

At least the men on board seemed unharmed, floating down to the ocean surface like feathers as magicked wood fell in splintered rain around them. 

“Watch for the boil!” Jord shouted to the ships nearest them and Damen heard it echo down the line of ships as the message was passed on. 

Clearly the spell to make the water shoot up so powerfully took a lot of power and concentration because it only happened three or four more times, two of them very close to the boat Damen and Nik were on. It was clear to him that they were being targeted and he was on edge until they were within a few lengths of the pirate fleet.

That was when the fire started.

Blasts from cannons whistled towards their line along with what looked like flaming comets. 

“Lazar!” Pallas cried out from where his hand was gripping the rudder. 

“Breathe, baby!” Lazar called back with complete and utter ease as he raced across the deck. “I love fire!” Like some wind spirit, light and delighted with chaos, Lazar hopped across the deck to face the new assault head-on. 

With a smile and a whistle, Lazar’s fingertips crackled orange and when he closed his fist the fireballs blinked out of existence. 

“You beauty!” Pallas called, clearly impressed, and Lazar looked utterly thrilled. 

Damen was impressed by the show of strength but his focus soon shifted to the Vaskian he heard from the decks of the approaching ships. Despite the wind and sea water, he felt as though he scarcely blinked, only shifting his focus as Nik moved from his side. Nik seemed to be burning with fury as well as he put a hand to the hilt of his sword and judged the distance between them and the ladder notches in the hull of the pirate ship. 

In a daring move, Damen swung their boat wide, skidding close, and Nik leapt like a panther from the deck of their boat onto the notches. Damen watched him without breathing. 

He heard sounds of shouting and battle from around him, but it was a background rush, like the sound of waves. 

Damen handed the control of the sails to another Veretian soldier and followed Nik, watching his  _ agapetós _ seemingly fly over the railings of the ship. Damen smiled as he heard the yelling from the deck. Those Vaskians wouldn’t know what hit them. 

Damen clambered up quickly, drawing his sword as he too launched himself over the railing. 

Nik was doing a tremendous job already. 

One pirate was already lifeless on deck and another was bleeding through his leathers onto the already stained deck. He seemed to be doing well on his own and Damen turned his attention to finding the man who was responsible for so much hell. 

A brief sweep of the ship got him what he desired as he saw the Regent in leathers and furs at the quarterdeck. He was not even looking at the chaos of his own countrymen fighting on the ships or of the Akielons’ presence. His eyes were unwaveringly focused on the shores of Vere and Damen felt the hair on his arms rise. 

There was no doubt in his mind as to what the Regent was doing and Damen thought of Laurent, weak from using so much magic and trying to protect his people. The onslaught that had plagued his mind for so long was back and Damen, gods’ help him, was going to end it. 

He slashed at a man in his way before pushing him over the railing. Behind him was a huge rush of heat and he was dully aware that Lazar must have been able to board. He took the stairs to the quarterdeck two at a time and encountered the captain of the ship the moment he reached the top. 

The man was thickset, grizzled, and scarred, with armor made of thick leather and a massive, bloodstained hammer in his hands. He was startlingly calm and was therefore clearly not a man to be trifled with so Damen put himself on guard accordingly. 

“I am Damianos,” he said, raising himself up to his full impressive height. “I come on behalf of the crown prince of Vere and I ask you now: hand over the Veretian traitor who is aboard your ship and sail from these shores before there is any further bloodshed.”

The man snorted derisively--Vaskians were never ones for being talkative or eloquent--and did not even see fit to respond with words. He simply shifted the hammer in his grip and swung it with shocking ease. 

Damen was expecting such a reaction and moved backwards down the stairs as the railing behind where he had been shattered into splinters. He jabbed his sword forward and the captain moved so quickly that it only nicked his calf. Damen scrambled to his feet in an attempt to get the upper hand, swinging his blade down in a wide arc.

The tip of his blade briefly imbedded in the wood of the ship and he did not hesitate to turn to avoid the next blow of the hammer. 

He tried to disengage in an attempt to go tackle the Regent but he felt a gust of wind at his back and realized the hammer had only barely missed his spine. He turned his attention back to the captain and whispered encouragement to Laurent.

“Hang on a little longer, Laurent.”

He tossed his sword to his non-dominant hand in a move that clearly surprised the captain, because the slash caught the captain across his face and reopened a shallow scar that stretched from his chin to his forehead. Damen snarled at him, hoping that the blood pouring down the entire right side of the captain’s face would give him a moment’s pause. He turned on his heel and raced back toward the Regent.

“Wait.” The Regent smiled at him as he came close.

Damen was not going to wait and had in fact shifted his sword so he could stab it into the spot where the Regent’s neck met his shoulders and--

He stopped short when a shade of Laurent appeared in front of him on the deck of the ship. His breathing was shallow and his skin was ashen, though when he opened his eyes, they still burned hot and furious. It was clearly the image of a man who was fighting for his life and Damen was certain it would have hurt less being hit being hit by the hammer.

Damen shifted the sword yet again, preparing to do something he did not often do. 

“Wait.” The Regent said again and glanced to the main deck where all hell was still breaking loose. Damen had a sinking feeling as he looked down and his worst fears were confirmed.

It had taken five men to stop Nik and now the full extent of the Regent’s cruelty was clear to him.

Damen gripped his sword a little tighter, knowing he was going to be forced to make a choice.

 


	16. The Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha just prepare yourself for these last couple chapters; almost every one is a cliffhanger because I am incapable of controlling myself haha! I actually got this idea from King Arthur: Legend of the Sword one, because Charlie Hunnam is one of my faceclaims for Auguste, two, I love snakes.  
> When Laurent gave Nik a hug last chapter, he was actually slipping something into his pocket ;) Surprise! Hope you all enjoy it!

**16\. The Death**

Damen did not release his sword but stared the Regent down, hoping that his gaze could kill. 

“The big man is quick.” The captain grumbled behind him in Vaskian and Damen’s mouth quirked up in a cruel smile.

“The big man can speak Vaskian.” He said.

“You certainly show your hand quickly.” The Regent said.

“And you are not going to reach the shores alive.” Damen growled. He saw one of the pirates grip Nik by his braids so his throat was exposed and his vision started to go black at the edges. “I’ll cut you down where you stand.” Laurent’s eyes swiveled to Damen and Damen was sure Laurent could see him. 

“Laurent.” Nik groaned from the deck.

“By all means, slay me where I stand.” The Regent said with a placid smile. “You will save my nephew but you will lose something else.” Damen’s very blood seemed to tremble at the thought of knives on Nik’s throat. “Or save your friend and let me deal with my nephew.” After so long fighting, Damen did not think he could watch Laurent’s mind be crushed in front of him either.

He had not thought the Regent’s power could reach all the way to the city.

“What are you waiting for?” Nik called out in surprising fury. “Save Laurent!”

The image Laurent looked over at him, his eyes calm, as he shook his head and mouthed ‘no’.

“I will not play your games.” Damen hissed, his chest spiking with pain. 

“Then watch them both die.” As if on command, Laurent gripped his head and seemed to scream silently. Nik also yelped and it seemed like Laurent could hear, because hatred cut through the pain on his expression. His hands fell from his head and clenched like claws against his chest.

Damen also had to tamp down the black rage that threatened his sanity when he saw that one of the pirates had broken one of Nik’s fingers.

Damen could not choose and nor could he bear to even lie and listen to his lover’s pleas to just select one of them at random. He knew it was probably very stupid of him but only one solution came to mind. “Me. I choose myself.”

“You idiot!” Nik yelled. Laurent just glared up at him. 

Damen smiled at the both of them. “You won’t have either of them.”

Laurent shook his head in disbelief before smiling. The air between his hands seemed to burst with golden stardust. Damen did not even have time to resign himself to death as he was too busy looking around to see what spell Laurent had cast.

He did not have to wonder long.

Nik shrieked like a maiden as something exploded from his pocket and the ship lurched downward as if a whirlpool had opened up beneath them. The wood of the ship creaked mournfully in protest and other people joined in Nik’s screams as they saw what was causing such a disturbance. 

Damen had thought sea serpents were a grandmother’s tale, meant to at once frighten and awe children. 

But the deck of the pirate ship had suddenly found itself bearing the weight of a massive snake as tall as the mast, with skin like smooth brown wood and eyes that glittered green fire. Slowly it opened its enormous mouth and everyone close by was treated to a long look at its impressive pair of bright red fangs. 

The snake took in its’ surroundings and seemed to notice Nik directly next to one of its larger coils. For a heart stopping moment, Damen was sure the snake was going to consume Nik. 

But then he the image of Laurent that was flickering next to him smiling with wicked glee and Damen’s heart was immediately set at ease.

Gently, the tip of the dark brown tail hooked around Nik’s waist and pulled him close, while the largest coil raised up a good ten feet in the air. With devastating speed and a sickening crunch, the snake’s glossy midsection slammed into the five pirates who had been holding him still, about to kill him. The deck shattered on impact and blood began to stain the splintered wood.

Damen watched breathlessly as the snake rubbed its giant head under Nik’s chin, making sure he was safe.

“Laurent?” Nik asked.

The snake--clearly incapable of speech--simply hoisted Nik over the massive holes it had created in the deck of the ship before launching itself at the next boat. Narrowly missing all the Veretians on board, it cracked the vessel almost down the center. The sound of Nik yelling his name over the breaking wood jerked Damen into focus. His hand remembered the familiar feeling of the sword hilt and he moved almost in a full circle. 

The Vaskian pirate captain gained a new wound that would not have time to scar over as Damen sliced almost entirely through his meaty neck. 

The sound of his heavy body hitting the quarter deck seemed to snap the Regent out of his horror over seeing the snake and he howled in fury. 

“ _Laurent_!” Nik screamed his name as he raced up the stairs and Damen saw the image of Laurent clutching his head again as the giant snake began to writhe accordingly.

Damen moved on instinct as Nik leapt over the final railing. 

He threw his blade with all his strength and his sword arced gracefully through the air, the blade imbedding in the Regent’s abdomen, just below his ribcage, as Nik stabbed a small dagger into the base of his neck. The Regent’s gasp was watery and the image of Laurent fell still before disappearing entirely. 

“Bastard,” Nik choked, wrenching out the dagger. Blood began to stain the fur of his collar as he tilted forward, the long blade of Damen’s sword pushing in deeper.

Damen watched him carefully, making sure he did not try and do anything further to hurt Nik or Laurent. 

He stepped forward as the Regent coughed up blood but did not get a chance to cut the Regent again. To add insult to injury, the massive snake launched back onto the main ship, his fangs and mouth crushing into the Regent with such force that there was not much left of the man, save meat and pulpy bone. The snake cocked its head down at the mess beneath it as if waiting for the ‘man’ to move.

“Nice shot.” Nik said in disbelief. 

At first Damen thought the snake was giggling until it’s body all but exploded into golden stardust and something small clattered to the floor at Nik’s feet. He bent down to pick it up and showed Damen with eyes wide.

It was the small wooden snake he taken from the Patran pirate ship a few months earlier.

The wooden chin of the snake was now dripping blood to match its ruby fangs and Damen was reminded of how much Laurent had liked to hold the little carved figure. He must have slipped it into Nik’s pocket early after enchanting it with massive amounts of protective magic. 

Nik picked it up again while Damen surveyed the chaos around him.

It seemed that the Veretian soldiers had been busy while the little drama between royalty had been playing out. Three ships were on fire, including the one they were on, and Damen saw Lazar blackened with soot and ash, laughing as he hung single-handedly from the bowlines. 

The ship next to them was crushed down the center and rapidly sinking beneath the gray waves while two other had begun their wide and graceful turn south. For all intents and purposes, it seemed as though their magicians had won the first naval battle in an age though Damen wished to drive the point home.

“Nik to the sharks.” He said coldly and Nik nodded. 

With clinical detachment, the two of them did as was necessary with traitors and pirates who refused to see reason. They had put hands on Nik, one of the gravest crimes in the mind of the Akielon king. 

When Damen took back his blade, he did not bother to wipe it off, letting the blood drip onto the burning ship. Instead he screamed out ‘Defeat’ in Vaskian, throwing the captain’s bloody body overboard as Nik impaled the corpse’s severed head on the wheel. 

Their message was clear.

Lazar watched them with fire still in his eyes, Pallas and Jord slaying a survivor behind him. “Is that your request for surrender?”

“Let them burn.” Damen ordered, still in a fury. 

“Damen are you sure?” Nik asked, doubtless considering the sturdier of the ships going up in flames. It was not unsalvageable.

“Perhaps Veretian sharks like their meat grilled.” Damen replied. “Let them burn.”

Damen would have liked to have stayed and watched the carnage but it was never a good idea to stand on a burning ship for too long. Besides he was concerned for Laurent’s health and wanted Nik’s finger healed. 

“We’re returning to the mainland to see to the prince.” He announced to no one in particular as he guided Nik to one of those quick, lightweight Veretian boats. There were men on board who could set and heal Nik’s finger and he had full use of it by the time they reached the shore.

There was a lone figure standing on the black sands with two horses by his side. As Damen disembarked, he recognized the man as the one who was patron to that fiery red-headed pet and, as usual, he looked torn between exhaustion and worry.

He perked up when he saw them but he did not look at reassured.

“Your Highness! Captain!” He called as he jogged over with the horses in tow. “Thank the gods you’re back on land. You must ride back to the castle immediately. _Immediately_!” He pulled them to the side, beyond the hearing of the other Veretians. “Prince Laurent seems to be on the verge of death, you must hurry.”

He had handed them the reins midway through his explanation and did not need to give any further information. 

Damen and Nik took hold of the reins and swung themselves up on the horses, their exhaustion forgotten at the thought of Laurent in peril. 

“Ride them fast!” The man called. “I’ll make sure their hooves don’t touch the ground!”

The man must have enchanted the path because Damen had never experienced such an exhilarating ride. The horses _flew_ over the twisted, root-covered path and not once was Damen lashed with a branch or a vine; the Veretians were amazing and he would never tire of them.

They were, however, surprisingly predictable when it came to the way they panicked. 

Damen and Nik did not even dismount but rode through the gates and then through the front door, horses rearing once their hooves slid across the polished marble of the entry hall. Pets screamed as if they were being raided by pirates, but Damen and Nik ignored them entirely.

“The prince! Prince Laurent, where is he?” Nik actually had the common sense to pause and ask, whereas Damen was already halfway up the stairs; his plan had simply been to search the palace top to bottom.

The redheaded pet of the man on the beach was there and he was actually of some use. 

“Berenger said he was in the North Wing but he’s faded--I can’t _feel_ him. It’s like he disappeared.” The pet seemed confused. “He’s so _strong_. I can…I can usually feel where he is unless--.” 

“Wait here!” Nik said. “We’ll find him.” At least they had a general area but thinking of the North Wing… 

Damen and Nik ran up the stairs of the palace, taking the stairs two at a time. They had not been told exactly where Laurent was planning to barricade himself, but somehow they both knew where he would be. 

Damen shouldered through the enchanted door and they both ran inside.

There was someone standing inside who turned slowly at their approach and Damen heard Nik gasp behind him. Like an ocean spectre, pale and calm, Auguste of Vere stood in between Damen and Nik and the pallet where he had slept for years. His aqua eyes radiated calm but his arms trembled as he held the limp, lifeless body of his brother.

Nik made a noise of pain as he saw Laurent and Damen reached for his hand. Laurent looked dead; his chest was not rising and blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth. Auguste also looked down at his brother, sadness permeating his expression.

“You must be Damianos and Nikandros.” He said, his voice soft from disuse. 

“How do you know who we are?” Damen asked. 

“Laurent came to talk to me quite often when he could not sleep.” Auguste said tenderly. “And when he could sleep he still came and told me of you.”

“You could hear in that state?” Nik asked.

“I was enchanted, not deaf.” Auguste said and Damen hiccupped a little.

“I see you share your brother’s brutal honesty.”

Auguste smiled for a brief moment but it fell away to concern just as quickly. “We don’t have much time, I’m afraid.”

“Laurent.” Damen finally found his voice. “The defenses.” Nik choked at the same time.

“Fuck the defenses.” Auguste said, his voice a little stronger now. He placed his brother in the spot where he had lain. “I heard him screaming and I woke. I should have woken up ages ago. I should have never left him alone.”

“Is he…?” Damen could not bear to say it. “He can’t be dead.”

“He’s close.” Auguste said and he sounded just as heartbroken and desperate as Damen felt. “His magic is all but gone and I have to see if I can heal him.” He set Laurent down on the dais so that he was enveloped in that iridescent magic shield. “This spot is one of the most arcane and magical in all of Vere. Perhaps it can help Laurent recover enough magic to heal whatever damage was done to his mind.”

“He enchanted this.” Nik said, pulling the bloodstained snake from his pocket. “He put magic in this. Can you,” Auguste had already taken it from him and a tear rolled down Nik’s cheek into his open mouth, “can you give it back to him?”

“I can try.” Auguste said gripping the snake so that it disappeared in his fist. A vein in his forehead and neck bulged as he pressed his palm flat against Laurent’s chest and more gold spilled out from his fingertips. 

Laurent gasped deep and raspy, like a man almost drowned. His eyelashes fluttered but he did not open them. The snake clattered uselessly to the marble floors.

“It’s not enough.” Auguste shook his head before turning back to Damen and Nik. “I’m sorry but…the both of you need to leave.” He raised both hands as it became clear that Damen and Nik were about to stride forward in protest. “Wait. Laurent has told me of your home, of its fate. _Please_. You may already be too late to save the city but I will watch you as you go.”

He glanced to the windows and Damen noticed that the shadows were long and the castle was bathed in the fiery pink-orange glow of the dying sun. The pain in his chest was almost unbearable, thinking of the rubble of Ios below the sea. 

When he turned to Nik, Nik’s eyes were closed and his lashes were wet.

Damen pulled him forward roughly and kissed his forehead. He preemptively wiped at Nik’s cheeks with his thumbs and tried not to see as Nik gritted his teeth and his lower lip trembled. “We have to go.” 

“It’s what Laurent would want.” Nik said, obviously trying to convince himself that it was what he wanted as well. 

Still, the two of them approached the dying form of their lover, unwilling to leave without saying goodbye. Auguste stopped them before they got too close. “From what I understand…your people negate magic. If you touch him, whatever delicate magic is keeping him alive could--.”

Damen nodded slowly, understanding that they could not even stroke Laurent’s cheek or kiss his forehead. He scooped up the wooden snake from the floor and kissed its smooth head. Nik also kissed it, one of his tears slipping into the snake’s open mouth. Damen was careful not to touch Laurent as he placed the snake on the center of Laurent’s chest. 

“It will keep him safe” Nik explained, his voice hollow. 

“As he kept us safe.” Damen said, clenching his trembling fingers into a fist. He allowed himself one last look at Laurent before he and Nik all but ran from the room. 

 

They rode the horses they borrowed from the stables until the beast’s flanks were trembling from exertion. The beach was all but deserted, the sea smelling of smoke and dyed in flames from sunset. The pirate ships had disappeared from the horizon but burnt and splintered flotsam was being washed ashore. 

The horses they released back into the forest and ran the rest of the way to where their boat had been beached. 

Pallas and Lazar were already on the ship, Pallas coated in dried blood and Lazar smelling  strongly of smoke. Though Pallas looked harried, Lazar smiled at Damen and Nik as if he hadn’t a care in the world. 

“What are you doing on our ship?” Damen asked, too exhausted and in pain to put any bite behind it. 

“I heard the voice of the crown prince for the first time in years.” Lazar said. “He asked me to tell Pallas to board the ship and prepare for departure.”

“Excellent. You can send my regards to His Highness but my question was, what are _you_ doing on our ship?”

“Well, I find I quite like sailing and your little Pallas here. Thought I might indulge in both at the same time.” Pallas rolled his eyes at Lazar’s logic but he did fit quite nicely with the stereotypical seafaring adventurer.

“I tried to throw him from the ship, Exalted One but…he’s stubborn.”

“And I was also very aroused. Nothing like being picked up off the floor and thrown about.” Lazar leaned against the railings and smiled again, although this time it was almost wheedling. “I’ll be useful you know. I can create wind and make us go faster.” When no one responded, he raised an eyebrow. “We _are_ on a time limit, aren’t we?”

Damen sighed, his shoulders drooping. He was not interested in fighting any longer.

“Do you have permission to leave?”

“Of course not.”

“Fuck it all.” Damen groaned and began to hoist himself aboard. “Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you.” Lazar grinned.

“Did you get our remaining things?” Nik asked Pallas as Damen helped him aboard. “Did you get the small chest from our rooms?” The chest in question had the spell for Ios wrapped carefully in their Akielon chitons and cloaks. 

“Yes,” Pallas motioned, “The chest on the quarter deck, by the wheel.” 

The relief was bittersweet as Lazar brought them a stiff wind and the four of them sailed due south, far from Arles and Auguste and Laurent of Vere.  

 


	17. The Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heard you all like cliffhangers! Have another <3

**17\. The Magic**

Lazar was giving them a stiff sailing wind but, even as feisty as he was, he had his limits.

As the sun went down, the wind fell fallow and Lazar stumbled as if he had had too much wine. Luckily, Pallas was there to steady him and he looked apologetically at Damen and Nik. He spoke in that same sweet swooping language that Damen recognized from months earlier, when they had first met Laurent. 

Damen realized, with shock, that it was Veretian and that he could not understand it. 

Lazar noticed their puzzled expressions and groaned. The fire that flickered between his hands were little more than sparks but it did the trick. “I’m sorry but I have to rest with the wind. Any more and there will be no magic left in me come morning.”

“Why did we lose the ability to understand you?” Nik asked in confusion.

“The fuck if I know. It’s likely that whoever cast that speech spell in the air around your ears and mouth is too weak or too dead to hold it up any longer.”

 _How comforting_. Damen refused to let himself feel fear as the thought of Laurent’s weak, limp form entered his mind unbidden. 

“Rest.” Damen ordered from the helm. “We’ll continue to sail through the night in shifts. And besides, we haven’t come across any of those magical boundaries that we encountered on the way up.” Despite sailing for several hours, they had not seen any of the rock maze and Damen doubted that they would see the rocks or the storms or the whirlpools or the fog of Delpha. 

Not with Auguste awake. 

Vere was bared to the world and Damen wondered how long it would take before the pirates who had left with their lives would spread the word about what they had seen. A lost land of magic and monsters would appeal to any adventurers or pirates who would risk the journey. 

It seemed like torturously slow progress without Lazar’s wind in the sails but Damen did not want to work the man to death.

Pallas set up a small resting place on the main deck and Lazar was asleep on top of him only a moment later with Pallas stroking his dark hair. Taking advantage of their moment of relative privacy, Nik came and nestled against Damen, the compass pressed against his chest.

“Do you think he’s alright?” Nik’s voice was very small.

Damen leaned down and bit softly on Nik’s shoulder in a show of comfort. “I…I don’t know Nik. I don’t know but I can only hope he’s still alive.” 

“The language spell…”

Damen remembered what Lazar had said about the spell falling away due to the caster’s death but he refused to believe it. Laurent was too stubborn to die. “We have to hold on to hope. For Laurent’s sake and for Ios’.” 

Nik did not look at all at ease and Damen kissed him in intervals as he steered. 

They took turns at the helm until the first rays of sunrise, but somehow neither one of them felt exhaustion. The fear was too great for that. 

 

The day of reckoning dawned with a sunrise that was beguilingly beautiful, as if to lull hundreds of thousands into a false sense of security only to bury them beneath the sea. Damen was trembling with nerves. 

It was going to be close, and despite all of their sailing prowess, it was clear that Lazar’s wind magic was going to be the difference in Ios’ survival. 

But the man was stretched thin.

After three days of sailing and sending near-constant wind through their sails, Lazar was wedged between some of their supplies, his limbs limp and head lolling. He looked like a man on the verge of death and Pallas fluttered around him accordingly, bringing him water and food and shading him with his own body.

When he spoke it was unintelligible, that lilting Veretian, his magic too gone to hold up the spell.

Damen knew the situation was dire when the wind fell from the sails and their boat stopped almost dead in the water. Lazar had nothing left and Pallas looked up to Damen in a panic.

“Exalted One! What should we do?”

“How far are we from Ios?” Damen asked Nik, his mouth dry.

Nik pored over their maps, his face ashen and for good reason. “We are at least three hours from the port. Oh gods,” he slumped to the deck with his head in his hands, “we’re not going to make it. The city will fall, oh gods…”

Damen saw Nik’s shoulders shake and his chest was filled with fury and distress. His heart nearly broke as Nik looked up at him. He was not crying but his eyes radiated such raw pain that Damen felt it like hot thorns behind his own eyes. He moved to Nik’s side and kissed his forehead.

“Has this…has this all been for nothing?” Nik whispered, holding Damen’s arms for all he was drowning in sorrow and fear. “Laurent dying and Ios about to fall beneath the sea. We… _cannot_ have failed. Please, Damen, _please_.”

Damen wanted to comfort him and tell him everything would be alright. He was a king and his word was all but law but he felt helpless, adrift in the sea, one love dying and his _agapetós_ suffering in front of him.

It would take a miracle. It would take--

It hit him like lightning, like the way Laurent’s aqua eyes could all but stop his heart. 

Those eyes in another face and Auguste telling them to go, that he would watch them on their journey. He was watching and Damen leapt to his feet, staring in a desperate furor at the clear blue of the sky. 

“Auguste!” Damen called to the sky, “Auguste, please! Please can you give us wind?”

Lazar, stirred as weak as he was and looked up as well. His plea in Veretian was much softer, his open palms smoldering for lack of fire. The air stayed calm and still for a few moments and Damen felt as though he could vomit.

“Damen!” Nik gasped as there was a soft breeze, almost like a sigh of disbelief. 

It seemed like the older brother was just as cheeky as his younger brother. The wind picked up and Pallas made sure that Lazar was comfortable before he ran to secure the sail lines. Nik went to help him but none of them could have prepared themselves for the sheer power of Auguste of Vere. 

The wind picked up until they were moving at a healthy speed, then until they were all but skipping over the waves. The ship groaned in protest and Damen had to check behind him to make sure some massive squall was not brewing behind them. 

No, the day was as beautiful as any; it was simply the power of Vere.

They were making such excellent time that they could see the island of Ios in the horizon not but an hour later. Damen was filled with tender, golden hope that everything would be alright and they would be in time to rescue Ios.

Despite how he loved Laurent and Vere, there was a rush of joy and homesickness over seeing his island home. Pallas was whooping as he scurried over the deck, while Nik was dead silent, his gaze never wavering from Ios.

Damen heard the rattling of the quake shocks and saw several dozen ships in the sea around the island and his neck began to sweat. They were so close, so close. The wind blew with renewed vigor and one of the smaller ships near the coast broke away from the pack to come meet them.

It was Makedon on the small vessel, his men scurrying about like ants on an overturned hill; they had probably never encountered such wind before.

“ _Damianos_!” Makedon looked astonished to see their ship. “You yet live?”

“As if anything short of a god would be stubborn enough to kill him!” Nik shouted in return and Damen laughed, though it was fraught with nerves. “ _Kyros_ there is an earthquake about to happen!”

“We’ve felt small tremors all morning, sir!” One of the naval officers called from where he was wrestling with one of the main sails.

“We’ve evacuated all the civilians out onto our navy vessels and any large boats that could be spared.” Makedon continued, his features looking a little gray. “But I fear that the worst is yet to come. I fear...” He did not say it aloud but Damen knew. “There are cracks beginning to appear in the very center of the island.”

Damen nodded, watching as the waves began to ripple ominously towards the island of Ios. His focus was resolute.

“We have quite the story to tell you _kyros_ and the tale is not yet complete. But we may have found a way to save the city!” 

“May the gods give you wind!” Makedon nodded as he provided a common prayer amongst the navy for speed.

Damen couldn’t help but smile as the wind blew them forward; much less than the gods, he should hope that those crafty Veretians would give them wind. It was almost as if Auguste heard them. For as they heard screams from the navy vessels, the gale increased yet again and their ship hurtled toward the port at breakneck speed. 

He saw as the first wave of the earthquake hit the island and felt the urgency increase.

It occurred to him then that Laurent had not instructed him on how the spell was to work and his instinct was to shout at the sky. “ _Auguste_! Auguste, tell us how to use Laurent’s magic!”

At first there was silence.

“Oh fuck!” Lazar groaned from where he was slumped against the main mast. “Come on in then, Your Highness.” 

Auguste’s voice, calm and cultured, spilled from his normally wicked mouth not a moment later. “You have an immense amount of magic in that chest at your feet. Open it!” The shore was racing closer and if the wind didn’t die down, they would crash into the rocks. “Open the chest and release the magic!”

With Lazar all but helpless and Pallas dealing with the sails, Nik realized that the task was his alone and he turned back toward where Damen was at the wheel. 

“Open the bottle!” Damen called to Nik, kicking the chest closer to the stairs. The wheel was providing such resistance that Damen knew they would veer wildly off course if he let it go for even a moment. Nik scrambled over the lurching deck, his fingers digging into the wood planks. 

He gave up trying to climb the stairs and simply sank to his knees on the last few steps, reaching for the chest and his dagger at the same time.

“The city is shaking!” Pallas cried from the bowlines.

“How’s it coming, Nik?” Damen asked, trying not to let his fear seep through.

“I am _working_ on it!” Nik called. “I am also trying to keep most of my fingers!” Damen glanced down in time to see Nik withdraw the gold-filled bottle and slice the razor-edge of his dagger up the neck of the bottle. He did it with such force that Damen thought the glass might break; instead the wax and cork flew out into the ocean.

Nik yelped as gold stardust sprayed into the air like sea salt and Damen momentarily forgot that they were sailing towards his crumbling capital at breakneck speed.

The golden dust was beautiful--drops of stardust and a rain of sunlight across the waves--and it hung midair longer than it should have, keeping pace with the ship. Like a school of shimmering fish, the motes moved together in an elegant, twisting vortex until it shuddered and began to take shape.

Damen watched, transfixed, as the gold took on a human shape: lithe and beautiful and one he recognized. The golden form of Laurent shuddered with light and breathed in before falling from midair. 

“Catch him!” Nik shouted to himself, already leaping from the stairs.

Though the rational part of him knew that they negated magic, the whole of Damen that loved Laurent did not want to see him fall. And Nik would never listen to him anyway; he was an absolute fool for the ones he loved. 

So Damen had to settle for watching the golden Laurent fall from the sky, into Nik’s outstretched arms.

Nik seemed to realize the enormity of what he had done the moment golden Laurent was safe against his chest, his arms around Nik’s neck. His eyes were huge as Laurent smiled up at him and…did not disappear. 

The wind stopped, Auguste letting them coast the last few meters into the frothing harbor and Damen abandoned the wheel entirely. 

“Fuck!” Lazar shouted cheerfully as the hull of their boat crashed into an empty dinghy.

When Damen’s feet hit the main deck, Nik was staring open mouthed at Laurent and Laurent’s hands were on Nik’s cheeks. “Hello, lover.” Laurent said sweetly, his voice sounding like he was speaking underwater. 

Damen ran abreast of Nik and, too excited, he took Laurent’s form from Nik’s arms and spun him around, kissing his golden cheeks. “You’re alive! You’re _alive_!” He gasped running his hands up and down Laurent’s back, in his golden hair, over his cheeks. Laurent smiled and his body glowed. “You’re here.”

“I put most of my life in that bottle. I’m so glad you didn’t drop it, since I’m here to save Ios.” He jolted as Nik pressed his head against Laurent’s neck. “Oh _Nik_.”

“I thought I’d never… _hold_ you again.” Nik said, cupping Laurent’s face in his hands.

“You didn’t say goodbye to me.” Laurent whispered holding Nik’s hands on his cheeks. “How could I let you leave me without saying goodbye? But you’ll have to let go of me again. I have to save Ios.”   

“Don’t die.” Damen begged. “You have to live. We have to see you again.”

The golden Laurent smiled up at them both. “Please. Let me go.”

Damen and Nik let Laurent go, and he slipped from their arms, smooth as water. As soon as his feet touched the deck he shuddered and the gold of him glowed as if he was building up to something enormous. 

The light was blinding and several people from the other ships screamed at the intensity of it. Though it looked like the golden-white tail of a comet streaking across the port, it was Laurent running across the water, bathed in the halo of his own powerful magic. 

Like some kind of young god, he ran faster that was humanly possible, leaping from the surface of the water onto the wood of the docks. Damen watched him run up the wooden planks, his feet scarcely touching the ground and he did not hesitate. 

“Pallas, take the helm!” He called out, racing for the edge of the ship. 

“Exalted One!” Pallas called back in disbelief, but it was too late. Damen was already diving in a graceful arc, down toward the deep blue-green depths of the port. As he splashed into the warm water, he felt Nik dive in beside him, swimming forward with powerful sweeps of his long arms. 

Damen swam under the water as long as he could and when he breached, he was within arms’ length of the main dock. 

He hoisted himself up on the shuddering wooden boards, immediately stretching out his arm so he could help pull Nik up. Nik cleared the braids from his eyes and did not even attempt to stand as he watched Ios quake. 

The buildings trembled and lost chunks of their stone and plaster while fissures and cracks opened up in the street, the island crumbling the same as the buildings on it. It was incredibly dangerous to be so close but neither one of them could help it. They had to watch Laurent. 

They saw the light of him glowing from the streets as he continued to run, gold dust shimmering to mark his path even as he had passed. The Akielons with safe refuge on the navy ships gasped and screamed whenever they caught sight of him.

Damen and Nik watched in silence, Damen resting his fingertips lightly on Nik’s shoulder, as the golden image of Laurent reached the top of the island. He was a pinprick of light near the royal villa and Damen was filled with a visceral, desperate desire to bring Laurent there. To see his pale form on the wisteria covered balcony, leaning against Nik and drinking chilled wine.

He had to believe that Laurent was going to keep that hope alive. “You can do it, love.”

The pinprick of light that was Laurent began to rise in the air, the glow intensifying until it was almost painful to look at. The stones of the island trembled gold as well, lifting along with the golden light that was Laurent; first the dust and the pebbles, then the rocks and stones until the island itself seemed to stop shaking as Laurent held it aloft. 

Everything seemed to be very quiet.

The Akielons had fallen silent and even the waves were subdued. Everything glowed gold. 

Damen felt something press against his lips and he knew the feeling of Laurent’s kiss even when the man was not in front of him. He heard Nik gasp and realized that Nik must have gotten a phantom kiss as well. Ios trembled one last time--although it could have just been a shiver up Damen’s spine that made him think so--and a breeze passed between Damen and Nik.

The light that was Laurent blinked out and Damen exhaled.

When he turned back the painted rings he had ordered on the sturdy wood of the dock were high above the sea level. 

 


	18. The Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another story is done!!!   
> Oh god I'm so happy to have shared this with all of you and thank you everyone for taking the time to read and leave some love. Especially big shout out to my girl, Nikanndros (aka. Kittendiamore), for giving me great feedback on my draft; it was the highlight of writing. I had so much fun writing and falling in love with Nik. Mostly Nik haha!  
> In other news, I have recently quit my very stressful job and soon I'll be backpacking overseas for 2 months without my laptop. This means I likely won't be able to start/post/update any stories until October. I might still write, but after almost 3 years of writing every day I think I should take a break haha!  
> Enjoy <3  
> Please wait for me everyone and enjoy the final chapter of this

**18\. The Visitor**

Damen woke up to a cold bed and grumbled himself awake. He stretched his arms out to their full length and encountered nothing but empty sheets. When he opened his eyes, it took him a few moments to adjust to the darkness inside his suite.

It had to be the middle of the night, judging by the violet-black shade of the inside of his rooms. The wisteria had ceased to bloom, but now it smelled heavy of honeysuckle, the scent so strong he could almost taste it. Despite the warm, wet heat of the day, the night was pleasant and cooled occasionally by the breeze. 

Ios had not shifted in the slightest since Laurent had raised it from the sea half a year ago. 

The moon was almost full and as he approached the balcony, he could see Nik’s bare form outlined in silvery white as he looked out to the endless expanse of sea. His braids swayed tantalizingly--begging to be tugged--and Damen had to pause just to bask in the muscular, statuesque beauty of Nik’s naked body. 

Damen thought he had loved Nik into dreamless oblivion not but a few hours before; he hoped he wasn’t losing his touch.

Nik jolted as Damen wrapped his arms around Nik’s dark waist and sunk his teeth into Nik’s shoulder.

“My  _ agapetós _ …aren’t you cold?”

It took Nik a few moments to respond. “How can I be? With such a warm night and my lover pressed up behind me?” He said it with love, but there was something missing, something hollow in his voice. He had sounded lost since they had seen Laurent blink out of existence over Ios. 

“Nik…”

“Sleep Damen. I’ll be back in…just give me a moment.”  

Damen thought carefully before kissing the spot he had just bitten. “I miss him too.”

Nik gripped his hand into a fist on the marble balcony and he turned to bury his face in Damen’s chest. “It  _ hurts _ .” Damen held him gently, stroking his braids. “I have all I have ever dreamed of but…it’s so selfish. I want Laurent and I cannot stop watching the horizon in hopes that he’ll…” 

Damen kissed him gently and also tried to tamp down the hurt he felt.

It had been almost six months since they had last seen the shores of Vere. They had not heard any news from the hidden nation and Lazar--who had stayed with Pallas and was currently making a name for himself in the navy barracks as a man who could fix just about anything, especially anything involving fire--could not feel a single person from so far away. They had no way of knowing whether Laurent was alive or not and they could not go off again, what with the pirates and raiders becoming bold in their absence. 

All they could do was watch the horizon. Damen sighed.

“I’ll get wine.”

Damen fetched some chilled wine and a thin sheet so he and Nik could curl up together on one of his lounging chairs. Nik rested his head on Damen’s chest but angled himself so that he could still see the ocean. 

Nik’s heartbeat was slowing and Damen was on the edge of sleep when a glint of moonlight seemed to take on a mind of its own. He watched through a tired haze as the white glimmer seemed to bob closer. 

It almost looked like…

Nik seemed to notice it as well as it deviated from the other moonbeams sparkling across the dark surface of the ocean and he sat up watching it. “Is…is that a boat?” Exhaustion forgotten, they both stood and watched as the lone ship came closer and closer to Ios. They didn’t dare voice their hopes aloud but… 

The boat was so white it almost glowed and it was silent as it slid through the port. There were no sails on the ship and Damen watched, scarcely breathing, as it smoothly came to a halt by the docks.

The glow from the ship was enough that they could see a single figure disembark.

Damen thought it but it was Nik who finally found the words, his voice soft and alight with hope. “ _ Laurent _ ?” His hands gripped the marble balcony and his whole body tensed as if he was preparing to run.

Damen held his breath; he desperately wanted it to be Laurent but the figure was too far away to tell. 

They watched as the lone figure took off at a light run, jogging up the streets as if his feet did not touch the ground. Damen was not sure until he saw the person begin to glow gold in a halo around his lithe body. Damen could breathe again.

“ _ Laurent _ .” 

Damen and Nik ran from the balcony at the same time, Damen running to the door until Nik called him back, “For fuck’s--Damen,  _ clothes _ ! Put on your clothes!”

Damen had been about to run through the streets of his city with his cock out and bouncing free, and he kissed Nik’s cheek as he searched for his discarded chiton. He tied it around himself in a rush, uncaring that it was being held together by a simple knot and the grace of the gods. Nik had not even bothered to wrap his chiton around his shoulders, simply wrapping it around his waist like a bath towel. 

They ran through the quiet halls of Damen’s villa; Damen could scarcely hear his bare feet slapping against the marble over the sound of his own heartbeat. 

Damen and Nik ran out of the villa entrance and into the empty streets, running down the streets to the docks as if something was pulling them close. It almost felt like magic. 

No other soul was out so late at night, as if someone had put the entire city to sleep.

They did not have to run long. Whoever had been jogging up to meet them was magically quick and seemed to know that they were coming. There was a warm breeze and Damen felt his heart beat unevenly in his chest. 

The hair on his arms stood up, as it always did when magic was close. A lot of magic, emanating from a powerful magician. 

Of course it was Laurent, standing in the center of the street, aqua eyes wide. 

His hair was a little longer, almost brushing his shoulders, skin still luminous as saltwater pearls. He was wearing a chiton--much to Damen’s delight--in the same dark violet as the night sky, complete with silver stars at the hem. Never had a ghost had finer legs. 

“Laurent.” He did not mean for his voice to come out as breathy as it did.

“Are you…” Nik caught his breath, “Are you  _ real _ ?”

Laurent smiled and it was beautiful enough to break Damen’s heart. “Nik, did you run out to meet a diplomatic ambassador wrapped in a bath towel?” His voice, with his cultured Veretian lilt, was enough to send shivers up Damen’s spine. 

Damen meant to move slowly, but his body did not listen. His arms had gone too long without feeling Laurent in them. 

Laurent gasped as Damen moved forward as quickly as he could and pulled Laurent up against him. He was solid and warm and gloriously  _ real _ and Damen felt as though he could breathe for the first time since he and Nik had left Vere.

The breath he took was sweet of almond blossom. 

He stepped back to look at Laurent’s smiling face and Nik saw his chance; he moved forward to hold Laurent and Damen’s half-tied chiton fell from his body leaving him bare. Laurent was hysterical laughing as Nik peppered his face with kisses.  

“Barefoot and cocks out in the middle of the night!” Laurent wheezed as he let Nik stroke his face. “Is this how you greet Patran princes and Vaskian chieftains?” Damen tied his chiton properly before he moved back to his lovers.

“Shh, shh.” He couldn’t help but smiling as he pressed his lips onto the soft skin behind Laurent’s ear. “Do you want to wake the whole city?”

“You’re  _ alive _ .” Nik whispered into Laurent’s elegant neck. “You’re here and you’re  _ alive _ .”

Laurent breathed in slowly, his eyes closing as if he could not believe it himself. His hands raised until one was stroking Nik’s braids and the other was gripping Damen’s curls. Damen felt the hair rise on his skin and leaned into the touch. 

“Of course I’m alive. I couldn’t die and leave the ones I love.”

Laurent went a little weak-kneed because he could barely catch his breath in between kisses from Nik and Damen. Damen picked him up midway through one of their kisses and began marching back up to the villa he shared with Nik. He felt Laurent giggling against him and saw that Nik was keeping pace so that he could continue to kiss Laurent. 

Damen slipped his hand underneath the fabric of Laurent’s chiton and it became a little harder to walk when Laurent’s breath hitched. 

The villa was quiet and thank the gods for it, as some of Damen’s elderly servant might have thought he and Nik had been ensnared by an ocean spirit. Laurent’s chiton fell away from him halfway down the hall and the fabric scattered into violet-black petals on the marble floors. 

“ _ Beautiful _ .” Nik sighed as the smell of dahlia joined the scent of almond blossom. 

Laurent laughed as they entered the rooms Damen and Nik shared, sliding naked from Damen’s arms so he could look around. “I could never have imagined…I dreamed while I slept and thought of what your home would be like. It’s so open and warm. A little bare though.” 

“Good thing you match.” Damen said.

A marble statue come to life, Laurent ran his hands along the smooth surfaces of marble and wood, his fingers skimming over the silk bedsheets. Damen could almost taste Nik’s desire to push Laurent down onto the sheets.

Having Laurent in their home felt right in a way that Damen did not even realize he was missing. He had still been able to breathe with just himself and Nik, but now it was as if he had both lungs in his chest, where before he had only had one. He just basked in the feeling of having Laurent alive and within reach as Laurent continued to look around.

He stopped when he saw the wine and blanket out on the balcony. “This monstrosity of a bed and you both choose to sleep on a chair? Though…I am sure the morning view is well worth the discomfort.”

The view of Laurent’s bare behind was comparable.

“I was watching for you.” Nik said immediately and the pain on Laurent’s face was profound. “We looked for you every night.” Laurent clutched at the spot over his heart before moving back to Nik.

“Nik you…you had to know that I would come.” He reached for Nik’s hand and his eyes were watery. “You did not say goodbye when you left.” Nik opened his palm and found the small wooden snake they had left on Laurent’s chest.

Damen felt his knees all but liquefy as Nik took Laurent’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply, Laurent tilting into his touch. He seemed hungry for it and Damen was content to watch.

Laurent could not keep from speaking, even when he was being kissed, but had to settle for speaking in between kisses. “I couldn’t--my uncle--mph!--when I woke up he was dead,” Nik flicked Laurent’s upper lip with his tongue, “and you were both gone. I had all I wanted but I was--mmm--alone again and I just--.”

Laurent’s whole body shuddered as Damen grew tired of simply watching. He gently scratched his nails up Laurent’s back, in between his shoulder blades, onto his scalp. “But you’re here now. And you’re alright? Your mind isn’t injured?”

“Despite my uncle’s best efforts, I am fully recovered. I put almost all of my magic--most of my life--into that bottle and the moment you released it, the moment the spell was complete, I could recover. One of those restricted spells my uncle kept in his private library.” Damen kissed his lovely blond head; what a sacrifice he had been willing to risk for Ios. “And I made plans as soon as I woke. Even though I came alone, I had to get to Ios and let you know I was alright.”

“What of Vere? Who will rule?” 

“Auguste will be taking his rightful position as king.” Laurent looked delighted. 

“How sensible of you to take my advice.” Nik bragged, laughing as Laurent elbowed him.

“And your councilors?” Damen asked.

“ _ Fuck _ them.” 

“Please do not.” Damen said, jealousy creeping into his tone.

“I will not.” Laurent promised, his hand running the length of Damen’s jaw. “I will stay with you as I please and enjoy everything that Ios has to offer.”

Damen caught Nik’s eye and felt his heart race at the joy he saw there. 

Their minds were likely alight with similar possibilities. 

Taking Laurent to eat sun-ripened mangoes on secluded island, sailing with him into the sunset, and holding him aloft in shallow water the same color as his eyes. They had nothing but time. 

And the first thing they wanted to do was the simplest choice.

“How you survived six months without being loved is…beyond me.” Damen said, his voice soft and dark and deliberate. Nik shook his head in disbelief but smiled wickedly when Laurent’s entire face turned red. “Did you,” Damen slid his hand low down the sinuous curve of Laurent’s hip and felt his back arch, “dream of us in… _ other _ ways?” 

“O-Of course not! With my brother right next to m--.”

Laurent’s thought was cut off as Damen tilted his head back and kissed him, his hand gripping the base of Laurent’s cock. Nik lifted his ass up, Laurent’s legs kicking the air as Nik rubbed his thumb over the tip of Laurent’s cock. 

Laurent squeals were muffled by Damen’s tongue, his toes curling and hips bucking, as Nik brought him to orgasm by suckling at one of his nipples.

“ _ Cruel _ .” He gasped, almost a reedy cry, as he went limp in Damen and Nik’s arms. “I swear it is you Akielons who are magic.”

Damen licked the pretty curve of Laurent’s ear causing Laurent to shudder again, and shifted his lithe body to one arm. He pulled Nik into the crook of his other arm, lifting him a few inches off the floor. Laurent’s eyes grew huge at the feat of strength and Damen felt something harden against his hip.

Nik was tossed on the bed first, his deft hands unpinning his chiton in midair, so when he landed on the silk sheets, he was gloriously bare. Laurent tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip before he could catch himself.

Damen dropped Laurent into Nik’s open arms and Laurent twined his legs in between Nik’s, grabbing fistfuls of Nik’s dark braids. Nik, always sensible, took two handfuls of Laurent’s ass so Damen could see his dark cock sliding between them.

Damen dropped his own chiton, and though it did not turn to petals, he felt there was something equally impressive underneath. 

His lovers made it so easy though, falling to moaning the moment Damen realized he could lick Laurent and Nik at the same time.

 

In the aftermath of their third round of lovemaking, the sheets had been kicked off the bed entirely, they were so soaked, and the room was slowly brightening with the light of the rising sun. 

Laurent was all but crushed underneath Nik and Damen but he looked delighted by the position. Most of his skin was the soft flushed pink of lovemaking while Damen and Nik were covered in long scratches; Nik was also covered in shiny pink crescents of bite marks. Laurent’s neck and nipples were encircled in round suckling bruises and--should he turn over--his lovely backside would show handprints and similar suckle marks. 

Still, he looked as pleased as a cat that had stolen cream. 

“You’ll find that within the next few weeks that the ‘lost’ islands of Vere will miraculously reappear.” He snuggled in a little deeper. “And the fact that you have both  _ thoroughly _ welcomed me into your home, I am inclined to give Akielos a very lucrative trade deal with us.”

“I could trade with you for hours.” Nik said. 

“I’m sure Lazar has also been trading avidly.” Laurent snorted.

“He has developed quite a reputation with the sailors he and Pallas invite into their bed.” Nik said, nuzzling closer to Laurent. “They say he is the octopus god, come to life.” 

“Octopus god?”

“In ancient Akielos, the octopus god was the god of sex.” Damen explained. “Used to think that the tentacles were cocks.”

“I shudder to think!” Laurent laughed. “I find my hands full with two that are not my own.”

“Your hands are full because we have unusually large cocks.” Nik said and laughed as both Damen and Laurent tugged on his braids. “But surely his skill pales in comparison to that of his prince. Not that anyone will ever know, aside from the three of us.”

“I would remind you again.” Laurent whispered, and Damen felt a hand slide down the cleft of his ass. 

“Such stamina.” Damen laughed. “You should sleep after your long journey. We have…all the time in the world. Your brother will have to go to war with us to get you to visit Arles and leave our arms.” 

“How can I make such a cruel choice? Just when the three people I love most in this world are safe. Perhaps you can host each other in the capitals.” Laurent said, childlike delight suffusing his features. “We have so much to talk about and I know he would like you. It was nice to hear his voice again. He spoke to me while I slept and recovered. He told me that you had saved the city.”

“ _ You  _ saved it.” Nik corrected, kissing Laurent’s shoulder.

“Even though we touched you.” Damen said, remembering how he and Nik had held the golden magical form of Laurent. In fact, Damen realized Laurent had been performing small acts of magic throughout the night even as Damen and Nik were touching him. “Are you bewitching us as we speak?”

Laurent stroked his hair and Damen closed his eyes; he didn’t need to use magic for bewitching, when all he needed to do was stroke Damen and Nik’s hair.

“When I woke I was still weak, and I read several of the books my uncle had stashed away. And I discovered how to use magic while being touched by you.” 

“Anything else?” Nik asked. Laurent’s fingers were massaging the bits of scalp between his braids and he was so relaxed that he scarcely reacted as Damen began to rub him between the buttocks. 

Laurent’s voice was a whisper, his legs threading between Damen and Nik’s legs as he shared his secret. “I know why Akielons are immune to magic.”

Nik looked up, his chin resting on Laurent’s chest and his eyes were filled with fondness. “Why?” Damen also opened his eyes, also interested to hear what it was that had kept them safe in Vere. It hardly mattered; Laurent was here with them and Damen and Nik could breathe at last.

Laurent smiled down at them, his hair and skin rosy and gold from the light of the rising sun.

**The End**


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